"What's the time, please? I feel better now."
"It's seven bells in the morning watch—half-past seven, you know."
"Yes, I know that," I replied. "Can I have breakfast?"
"Of course; whatever you like—in reason."
"Where will you reach port and land me?"
"I can't say; maybe at Gib—or Malta. We're in the Bay now. It's all the Bay between Ushant and Cape Finisterre."
"It's awful rough, I think I had better lie still," I said.
"As you like. The swell comes in here from the west, you see. But it isn't any rougher than the Atlantic between Ireland and America."
"I suppose you have sailed all around England, and also abroad?"
"Yes, I've been in a few places in my time. I was a schoolmaster once."