“Do you account their philosophy for nothing? and their jurisprudence?—you, who were so near losing your head, and who did actually lose your tail, by the axe of the executioner?”
Noah placed a hand behind him, fumbling about the seat of reason, with evident uneasiness. Satisfied that no harm had been done, he very coolly placed half a muffin in what he called his “provision hatchway.”
“You will give me this pretty model of our good old ‘Walrus,’ captain?”
“Take it, o’ Heaven’s sake, Sir John, and good luck to you with it. You, who give me a full-grown schooner, will be but poorly paid with a toy.”
“It’s as like the dear old craft as one pea is like another!”
“I dare say it may be. I never knew a model that hadn’t suthin’ of the original in it.”
“Well, my good shipmate, we must part. You know I am to go and see the lady who is soon to be my wife, and the diligence will be ready to take you to Havre, before I return.”
“God bless you! Sir John—God bless you!” Noah blew his nose till it rung like a French horn. I thought his little coals of eyes were glittering, too, more than common, most probably with moisture. “You’re a droll navigator, and make no more of the ice than a colt makes of a rail. But though the man at the wheel is not always awake the heart seldom sleeps.”
“When the ‘Debby and Dolly’ is fairly in the water, you will do me the pleasure of letting me know it.”
“Count on me, Sir John. Before we part, I have, however, a small favor to ask.”