"What! that cockle-shell take a thirty-gun brig?"
"Yes, sir, we took her by surprise, and—"
"And who retook the Fury?"
"Some threescore English seamen, sir; I was in command, and—"
"You in command! Bless my soul, what are you talking about? What's your name, sir?"
"Jack Hardy, sir."
"Why, why, didn't Lieutenant Blake report you as missing? Haven't I got his report—somewhere, hang me if I know where. Where's Lieutenant Blake? Why didn't he come and report all this himself?"
"I'm sorry to say he's a prisoner in France, sir. He was taken inland, and—"
"Am I standing on my head or on my feet?" cried the peppery admiral. "What's all this beating about the bush? Explain yourself, sir!"
"Why don't you give me a chance?" thought Jack; but Admiral Horniman's impetuous manner was well known on the Portsmouth station; no finer sailor ever served his Majesty; and those who knew him knew what a sterling character underlay his rough exterior. He raised his glass now and emptied it at a draft; and Jack took advantage of the action to begin his story, using as few words as possible, and hurrying on when he saw the admiral preparing to interrupt. Somewhat to his surprise, he reached the end without misadventure.