“That’s true, sir, but it was to do the best for their leaky brig, and I made her as good a craft as ever she was; so you needn’t chuck that in my teeth.”
“Be silent, Rodney, and let the captain speak.”
Rodd gave himself a snatch and clenched his fists.
“Well, sir, to make a long story short, the Count gammoned you into keeping company with him, and brought you here—here, of all places in the world—here, to Saint Helena,” and he thumped the chart just where the island was marked.
“Yes,” said the doctor thoughtfully—“here, to the neighbourhood of Saint Helena; upon a scientific research.”
“Scientific research!” growled the skipper scornfully. “Look here, sir, don’t you be so innocent. You make me wild. What’s this ’ere Count? A Frenchman, aren’t he?”
“Well, plenty of clever Frenchmen have followed science,” said the doctor indignantly.
“Chinese too, sir, though they can’t dress like Christians,” cried the skipper. “But just you tell me this ’ere, sir; who lives at Saint Helena? Don’t old Bony? Him as we shut up like the warlike lunatic he is, to keep him out of mischief?”
“Well, yes,” said the doctor, much more suavely; “there is something in that.”
“I should think there is, sir! Haven’t I heard you carry on dozens of times about what a bad ’un he’s been to the whole world?”