“That’s a fact,” said Archie. “We whipped you English gentlemen twice, and we can do it again.”
Archie’s pert speeches seemed to afford the giant a world of amusement. “Did you have a hand in it, my little man?” he asked, with a laugh.
“No,” replied Archie, slowly, “I didn’t. There was one little thing that prevented me—a very little thing, and I have always been sorry for it.”
“What was that?” asked Waters.
“I wasn’t born.”
Everybody roared except Fowler, and he was angry.
Frank remained on deck till midnight, and then believing that all danger of discovery had passed, he told Archie to have the tarpaulin removed from the skylights, to send one watch below, and then go to bed himself. “You go to bed,” replied Archie. “I am not at all sleepy, and I might as well stay on deck as to roll about in my bunk for six hours. As for that tarpaulin—if it will suit you as well, I will leave it where it is.”
“Why do you want to do that? It will be more cheerful with a little more light on deck.”
“That’s just what’s the matter. I don’t want more light on deck.”
His cousin told him to do as he pleased about it, and having seen one of the watches sent below, he went into the cabin, and lay down on his bunk. It seemed to him that he had scarcely closed his eyes in sleep when a hand was laid softly on his shoulder. He started up quickly, and saw Archie standing by the side of his bunk with his finger on his lips.