“I hope, however,” he remarked to the officer, “that you will not deprive me of any of my crew. I have shipped only just sufficient men to handle her, and I assure you that even with the fine weather we have had in our trip down Channel I have found that we have not a hand too many for the efficient management of the ship.”
“Ah, yes,” answered the lieutenant with a laugh; “all you merchant-skippers tell the same story; but we shall see—we shall see. They must be exceptionally good men, however, or you would never have succeeded in recovering possession of your ship. Ah! here they are, and a fine smart crew they look, too. Upon my word I must congratulate you, Mr—a—um—a, upon your good luck in securing so many fine fellows; why, they look capable of taking care of a ship twice your size. I really must relieve you of one or two of them; it would be nothing short of treason to his most gracious Majesty to allow you to keep them all, when the navy is in such urgent want of men.”
The crew were by this time assembled on deck, and a very disconcerted and disgusted-looking set of men they were; they had submitted to weeks of voluntary imprisonment in crimps’ houses for the sole purpose of escaping impressment into the navy, and now, when their voyage had actually begun, here was a man-o’-war’s boat alongside, to force them into the service they regarded with so great an abhorrence. No wonder that they looked and felt disgusted.
The men were drawn up in line along the deck, in single file, and the lieutenant sauntered leisurely along the line, critically examining each man as he came to him, but without, as George had anticipated, ordering any of them into the boat alongside. At length he reached the last individual in the line, one of the lads, and Leicester was beginning to breathe freely once more, hoping that he was, after all, not to be robbed of any of his crew, when the officer returned to the head of the line, and, touching the second mate lightly on the chest with his finger, said—
“You were evidently born to become a man-o’-war’s man, my fine fellow; get your traps together and pass them and yourself into the boat alongside as soon as you have received your wages.”
“Excuse me,” said George, “I really must ask you not to take that man; he is my second mate.”
“Your second mate!” exclaimed the officer with well-feigned astonishment. “You surely do not mean to say you carry a second mate on board such a cock-boat as this?”
“Certainly I do,” retorted George somewhat tartly; “why not, pray?”
“Simply, my good man, because such an individual is wholly unnecessary. You can take charge of one watch, yourself, you know, and your mate will of course command the other, so that you can have no possible use for a second mate. Why, a smart, active young fellow like you ought to be ashamed of such an act of laziness as the carrying of a second mate. Pay the man his wages, if you please, and let him pass into the boat.”
“I owe him no wages,” answered George; “on the contrary, he—and every other man of the crew, for that matter—has drawn a month’s advance, and owes me three weeks’ service yet before we shall be square. Who is to reimburse me for that loss?”