'Is that Latin or Greek?' he asked.
I would not reply to the cold-blooded question. He said the New Testament was written in Greek, he knew, and happy were those who could read it in the original.
'Well, and how can we be learning to read it on board ship?' said Temple, an observation that exasperated me because it seemed more to the point than my lengthy speech, and betrayed that he thought so; however, I took it up:—
'How can we be graduating for our sphere in life, Captain Welsh, on board your vessel? Tell us that.'
He played thumb and knuckles on his table. Just when I was hoping that good would come of the senseless tune, Temple cried,
'Tell us what your exact intentions are, Captain Welsh. What do you mean to do with us?'
'Mean to take you the voyage out and the voyage home, Providence willing,' said the captain, and he rose.
We declined his offer of tea, though I fancy we could have gnawed at a bone.
'There's no compulsion in that matter,' he said. 'You share my cabin while you're my guests, shipmates, and apprentices in the path of living; my cabin and my substance, the same as if you were what the North- countrymen call bairns o' mine: I've none o' my own. My wife was a barren woman. I've none but my old mother at home. Have your sulks out, lads; you'll come round like the Priscilla on a tack, and discover you've made way by it.'
We quitted his cabin, bowing stiffly.