"What rot!" I exclaimed rudely. "Surely you're going to London?"
"Not till I get back, round the East. Then, maybe I will."
"Do you mean to say that this vessel is bound to China?"
"I do; and ye're bound to go with it."
"Then I won't! I want to go home to Beachmouth. Can't you put me ashore anywhere?—I don't care where it is."
"Can ye swim?" he asked, looking at me with a funny wink.
"I can, of course. Well?"
"Then ye must swim home. We're away in the Channel, and France is on the port-beam, if ye know what that is."
"Of course I do. Do you think me an idiot?"
"I did—a while ago. If ye're not a fool ye'll stay where ye are. Of course, ye're a bit mad now, but by the mornin' ye'll be well. Lie quiet now, and I'll send ye some food."