“‘I’m a little shy,’ said Brackenbury, ‘in dressing in the same apartment with any one else. Ahem! did you ever know, O’Brady, that I wore a wig?’
“‘No,’ grunted O’Brady. ‘’Pon my soul, you’re as shy as a girl, Brackenbury. I ain’t shy. Now look here, did it ever strike you that I had a glass eye?’
“‘Well, no—ahem!—I’ve noticed, though, that you squinted a bit. Fact is, to put it straight, I’ve observed you looking very steadily at the main-truck with one eye, and apparently looking at the compass with the other. Ha! ha! ha!’
“‘Well, what does it matter?’ said O’Brady. ‘I’m going on for sixty years of age, man.’
“‘And I,’ said Brackenbury, ‘am precious near fifty—’
“‘Just on the other side o’ the hedge, eh? Ha! ha! You gay young dog. Look here!’ he continued, ‘perhaps you wouldn’t believe it, but I have a cork leg!’
“‘Well,’ cried Brackenbury, springing out of bed and preparing to shave, ‘I’m glad we’ve both made a clean breast of it.’
“They both laughed hearty now; fact is, they felt lighter in spirits since Marco told them there was no immediate cause for apprehension.
“And Brackenbury pulled out his false teeth, and O’Brady pulled out his, and Brackenbury threw his wig on the top of his bed, and appeared in all the beauty of his baldness, while O’Brady laid his glass eye on the table, and brandished his cork leg by way of showing the captain what he could do with it.
“Silly old fogies, weren’t they? But by the time the gong went roaring and clanging through the halls they were both dressed and waiting for Marco.