Luckily for “Goliath,” it was the ludicrous side of this episode which presented itself most strongly to his victim, or a sound thrashing would, in all probability, have been his portion; as it was, the pair scrambled to their feet again with a hearty laugh, as good friends as ever.
“I declare, Chester, you’ll be the death of me some day, if you go on like this,” resumed my would-be tormentor; “your touching innocence would move a brass monkey to tears. Why,” he continued, looking round and addressing in low, measured tones, intended to express overwhelming astonishment, the fragment of glass which still clung to one corner of its frame, and, hanging suspended against the bulkhead, did duty as a mirror—“he asks if he has really done anything very dreadful!! Is it actually possible, my gentle infant, that you are ignorant of the fact that you yesterday took the command out of your superior officers’ hands, and that the punishment for such a crime—when it happens to be a first offence—is keelhauling, while a repetition thereof is visited with the extreme penalty of the law?”
“And pray what is keelhauling?” I inquired, beginning to perceive that my mercurial friend was merely indulging in a joke at my expense.
“Keelhauling, sir,” he replied, “is a form of punishment which consists in being lashed to a stout rope which is passed under the ship’s bottom, and whereby the unhappy criminal is dragged along the keel from forward, aft; he being required, during the journey, to gather a sufficiency of barnacles off the ship’s bottom to furnish a satisfying breakfast for the captain next morning. If the unfortunate wretch fails, the process is to be repeated, with this addition, that on the second occasion the quantity of barnacles provided is to be sufficient for both the captain and the first lieutenant.”
“Good gracious, how horrible!” I exclaimed, assuming as well as I could an expression of serious concern. “I had no idea I was exposing myself to the risk of such a fearful punishment. What would you advise me to do?”
“Well, that is by no means an easy question to answer,” he replied. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do, though. I should like to help you out of the scrape if I can, and I’ll take an opportunity of speaking to the skipper before he goes down to dinner, and asking him not to pass sentence of punishment upon you for the present. Then, if you’ll keep my watch for me to-night, I’ll get another interview with him on the quiet while you are doing so. I have some little influence with him—my modesty forbids me to say how I got it—and if I ask him for my sake to forgive you, he may very possibly do so. I expect he’ll make some reference to the affair while at dinner though, and if he does, your only chance will be to keep him in a good-humour, which you can easily do if you only know how.”
“But unfortunately I don’t know how!” I exclaimed, infusing as much anxiety as I could into my tone and manner.
“No?” returned he. “Well, I’ll tell you, if you solemnly engage never, under any circumstances, to divulge the source of your information.”
I thought this extremely good, with Harvey sitting by, demurely listening to the conversation, but, instead of saying so, I gravely entered into the required engagement.
“That’s all right,” he remarked. “Now listen attentively to me. The skipper has one overpowering weakness, and that is a fondness for a comic song. Let him be ever so exasperated, a comic song—a good comic song, mind you—never fails to soothe him. Therefore, if he should happen to-night, by any chance, to refer to your unfortunate lapse of duty yesterday, listen patiently and respectfully to all that he has to say, and when he has finished, even if what he says strikes you as being of a laudatory character—he is a very curious fellow in that respect, often beginning by praising a man, when he means to end by blowing him up sky-high—just bow to him and say, ‘With your permission, sir, I will now change the subject by singing a comic song,’ and strike up boldly at once. I may safely venture to say you will be supremely astonished at the effect you will produce, and if—”