“Well, we can see that plainly enough, Joe,” said Rodd, speaking with his eyes still to the glass.
“Ay, but he means dirty water, sir.”
“What do you want to see dirty water for?”
“Muddy, then, sir, showing as there’s a river coming out there. I say, sir, wouldn’t t’other young gent like to come up and have a squint?”
“Oh, of course. I forgot. Below there! Morny! Come on up and have a look.”
The lad sprang to the main shrouds and began to hurry up, while Joe Cross, who had finished the task to achieve which he had been sent, began to lower himself down, leaving space for the young Frenchman, to whom the glass was handed in turn, ready for him to declare that he could make out the distant land.
“Ah,” he panted, as he handed back the glass, “how I have longed to see that! Now, Rodd, we shall soon get the brig careened over and the leaks repaired, and then—”
“Well,” said Rodd, “what then?”
“Be off to sea again,” cried Morny excitedly.
“Well, you seem in a precious hurry,” grumbled Rodd.