And away the man went, eager, as most British sailors are, to do a kindness to a fellow-sailor in distress. He speedily returned with a new short clay, and a cake of tobacco, which he handed to Leslie with the remark that he knew what it was to be without pipe or tobacco, and could therefore sympathise with him. Leslie was soon deep in the enjoyment of the first smoke that he had had for some eighteen hours; and while he was still at it he saw Miss Trevor emerge from the companion and gaze somewhat anxiously about her.
As she stepped out on deck, Potter, who had been leaning moodily over the quarter-deck rail, puffing away at a strong cigar, sprang upright and advanced eagerly toward her, with one hand held out, and his cap in the other. She returned his somewhat grotesque bow with a cold stateliness for which Leslie felt that he could have hugged her; and then, seeing that the man would not be denied, she allowed her hand to rest in his for just the barest fraction of a second. As Leslie approached, he heard Potter anxiously inquiring after her welfare, and doing the honours of his ship generally, with a ludicrous affectation of manner that amused him greatly, and even brought the ghost of a smile to the face of the girl.
Leslie made the polite inquiries demanded by the occasion, learning in return that Miss Trevor felt very much better for her long rest; and then he turned to the skipper, and said—
“Before going below I mentioned to your mate that some wreckage—apparently from the Golden Fleece—was floating at no great distance; and I left a message with him for you, suggesting that you should run down and examine it, upon the off-chance that there might be some people clinging to it. Did you do so?”
“I did not, sir,” answered Potter. “I’d have you know, in the first place, Mister—Leslie—if that’s your name—that I’m cap’n aboard my own ship, and take orders from nobody but my owners. In the next place, I took a good look at the wreckage through the glass, and saw that there was nobody on it; so, you see, there was no use in running the brig away off her course.”
“But, my good fellow—” remonstrated Leslie.
“Now, look here,” broke in Potter, “don’t you try to come the officer over me, and dictate to me what I shall do, or what I shan’t do; because I won’t have it. I satisfied myself that there was nobody upon that wreckage; and that’s enough.”
“I presume you have no objection to my satisfying myself also that there is nobody upon it?” returned Leslie, keeping his temper admirably in face of the other’s offensive manner. “If you will kindly lend me the ship’s glass, I will go up into the main-top and have a look for myself.”
“So you don’t trust me, eh?” sneered Potter. “Well, you’ll just have to, whether you like it or not. I refuse to let you use the ship’s glass; I forbid you to touch it; it’s the only glass aboard; and I’m not going to risk the loss of it by trusting it to a man who may clumsily drop it overboard for aught that I can tell.”
“Very well,” said Leslie; “if you choose to be uncivil and offensive, I cannot help it. At all events, I will take a look for myself.”