I gave a brief account of myself and of what had befallen us since leaving the Shark, while Morgan patched me up, and his work and my yarn came to an end about the same time.
“Well,” said he, as I rose to leave the cabin, “I don’t think the skipper will have much fault to find with you when he hears your story. You couldn’t help the loss of the schooner, and, upon the other hand, there seems to be very little doubt that you saved the Indian Queen from destruction, and her passengers and crew from a very terrible fate. I expect that jolly old buffer, General what’s-his-name, has come aboard with the express purpose of making a confidential report to the skipper upon your conduct, and if his story at all bears out your own it ought to do you some good. Now, I’m going to put you on the sick list for a day or two; you have been worked quite hard enough of late, and wounded too. You must take care of yourself for a little while. You need not stay below, you know, but you must not go on duty, for you are not fit for it; that shoulder of yours needs looking after, or it will give you a good deal of trouble. Come to me again at eight bells this afternoon.”
From the surgeon’s cabin I made my way to the midshipmen’s berth, where I received as boisterously hearty a welcome as mid could desire; but I had been there scarcely five minutes when San Domingo, who had already installed himself in his former berth, popped his head in at the door and said, with a broad grin:
“Mistah Grenvile, sah, de first leptenant wishes to see you on deck, sah.”
Leaving my shipmates itching with curiosity to hear the yarn which I had just begun to spin, I made my way up to the quarter-deck, where I found Mr Seaton in charge, both ships still remaining hove-to.
“Ah, here you are, Grenvile!” exclaimed the first luff as I stepped up to him and touched my hat. “I am anxious to hear the story of your adventures since you left us, but I understood that the captain had sent you below to the surgeon. Have you seen him?”
“Yes, sir,” said I; “I have been with him for quite half an hour, while he dressed my wounds. He has put me on the sick list, sir.”
“Which is about the best place for you, I should think, judging from your looks,” answered my companion. “And, of course,” he continued, “the wily old Welshman availed himself of the opportunity to extract your story from you—trust Morgan for that! However, he has only weathered on me to the extent of half an hour or so, and I’ll get even with him yet before all’s done. Now, heave ahead, my lad, and give me the whole yarn, from clew to earing.”
Whereupon I had to go through my story a second time, and when I had come to the end I began to reckon up mentally how many times more I might reasonably be expected to tell it, for the fact was that I was already becoming a little tired of it.
“Thank you, Grenvile,” said Mr Seaton, as I brought my yarn to a conclusion. “A most interesting yarn, and an exceedingly exciting experience. Of course it is not for me to mete out praise or blame in my official capacity, that is to say, it is for the captain to do that; but, unofficially, and merely as a friend, I may perhaps venture to say that so far as I can see you have nothing with which to reproach yourself and have much to be proud of. It is unfortunate that you should have lost five of your number, and I am particularly sorry that Mr Gowland should have been among them, for Mr Gowland was a particularly trustworthy and reliable navigator; but no one could possibly have foreseen that you would have been attacked by that piratical slaver. Ah, here come the captain and your friend the general! What a fine-looking old fellow the general is!”