And therewith Carter at length took himself off. But before he was fairly out on deck I was stretched at full length on the sofa, fast asleep.
Chapter Five.
Some strange happenings.
I was awakened by the entrance of the stewards, who, at six bells on the following morning, came into the saloon to brush and dust up generally, and lay the tables for nine-o’clock breakfast. The head steward apologised for waking me, and informed me that there was no need for me to disturb myself, also that Carter had informed him of my presence, and commended me to his care. But I had slept like a log, and felt thoroughly refreshed; I therefore went out on deck, and betook myself forward to the eyes of the ship, where I stripped and indulged in the luxury of a shower-bath under the head-pump.
It was a most glorious morning, the sun was shining brilliantly, with a keen bite in his rays already, although he was but an hour high; and there was a strong breeze blowing from the northward, under the influence of which the ship was reeling off her ten knots, under a main topgallant-sail. But I was greatly surprised to see that, instead of steering south, we were heading in for the coast, on a south-westerly course. I made some remark upon this to Carter, who again had the watch, to which he replied:
“Well, you see, sir, it’s a fancy of the skipper’s. He’s got some sort of a theory that, by hugging the coast close, and takin’ advantage of the sea and land breezes, as they blows night and mornin’, we shall do rather better than we should by thrashin’ to wind’ard against the south-east trade. I don’t know whether there’s anything in it myself, but it’s the first time that I’ve ever heard of the notion. But there he is—and in a blazin’ bad temper, too, by the looks of him! Shall I take you aft and introjuce you to him?”
“Certainly,” said I. “If we are to have any unpleasantness, let us have it at once, and get it over.”
There was, however, to be no unpleasantness—just then, at all events—except in so far as poor Carter was concerned; for when he and I went aft to where Captain Williams—a tall, powerful-looking, and rather handsome man in a barbaric sort of way, with a pair of piercing black eyes, and an abundant crop of black, curly hair, with beard and moustache to match—was standing on the quarter-deck, just outside the entrance of the saloon, the captain stepped forward, and, extending his hand, bade me welcome to his ship with every sign of the utmost friendliness. But he gave poor Carter a terrific wigging for not having called him when the boats were first sighted, and for receiving us on board without first consulting him.