CHAPTER XLI.
A LIFE ON THE OCEAN WAVE.
It was with considerable nervousness that Scott Clemmons went into the cabin of his captain.
It may have been from the effects of his too liberal “treats” of himself the night before, and, perhaps, from a knowledge of the fact that he had yawed wide of his course in telling his story about the affair ashore in which Mark Merrill had been mixed up.
He, however, without a chance to “splice the main-brace” to steady his nerves, braced up as best he could, and reported himself to his commander.
“Mr. Clemmons, may I ask you if you actually saw the occurrence ashore last evening in which Cadet Midshipman Merrill and Breslin had a set-to?”
“Yes, sir, I was, as I said, talking to Breslin at the time, for he was importuning me to give him some money.”
“Then I beg to say, Mr. Clemmons, that for sixty days you are allowed no leaves ashore, in ports we may visit, as your condition at the time of the affair was such that you could not see straight, or viewed it with purposely biased eyes.”
“But Captain De Long, may I ask, sir, if this censure of me is from having heard the report of others?”
“It is, sir; I have the facts from witnesses of the affair. I have no more to say, Mr. Clemmons.”