Almost ignoring the assistance of the Jacob’s ladder thrown to him, he swung himself easily on board, and stood before them all.
“Heigho!” he said. “This is a nice wind-up to a windy day. What will happen next, I wonder?”
Boy-like, Charlie at once stepped forward and shook Ingomar by the hand. Boys all love heroes. So do men, only they don’t like to show it.
“I’m sure,” said Charlie, impulsively, “uncle will make you welcome.”
“Hurrah!” cried the men.
“Your welcome, young sir,” said Mayne Brace, “shall be second only to that we gave the sun, as soon as we know a little about you, and what you desire.”
“Prettily spoken, captain. Forgive my familiarity. And I tell you straight, gentlemen, that what I desire most at the present moment is a piece of soap, a basin of water, and three towels. This hospitality to be followed, if you’ll be so good—and, being British, you are bound to be—by a good square meal and a cigar!”
Charlie would have led Ingomar straight away down to his own cabin on the spur of the moment.
But Ingomar held back.
“No,” he said politely, “let me wash—scrub, if you like it better—forward at the fo’c’sle. Every day for six months I have stripped, and my body has been scoured with snow. But my face——”