"How far have we come to night?"
"From Portsmouth Roads to this place, sir."
Mr. Dodge was satisfied, and the steward, who would not have dared to be so explicit with any other cabin-passenger, continued coolly to mix an omelette. The next attack was made from the same room, by Sir George Templemore.
"Steward, my good fellow, do you happen to know whereabouts we are?"
"Certainly, sir; the land is still werry obwious."
"Are we getting on cleverly?"
"Nicely, sir;" with a mincing emphasis on the first word, that betrayed there was a little waggery about the grave-looking mulatto.
"And the sloop-of-war, steward?"
"Nicely too, sir."
There was a shuffling in the state-room, followed by a silence. The door of Mr. Sharp's room was now opened an inch or two, and the following questions issued through the crevice: