Stowel looked from one to the other, as this short conversation was held; but, as soon as there was a pause, he put in a word in behalf of the ship.
"You've been up forward, my lord?" he said.
"Yes, I have, Captain Stowel."
"And did you think of seeing how the heel of the top-gallant-mast stood it, in this sea? Bluff tells me 'tis too loose to be fit for very heavy weather."
"I did not, sir. I was sent aloft to look out for the ships of the commander-in-chief's division, and didn't think of the heel of the top-gallant-mast's being too loose, at all."
"Ay, that's the way with all the youngsters, now-a-days. In my time, or even in yours, Admiral Bluewater, we never put our feet on a ratlin, but hands and eyes were at work, until we reached the halting place, even though it should be the truck. That is the manner to know what a ship is made of!"
"I kept my hands and eyes at work, too, Captain Stowel; but it was to hold on well, and to look out well."
"That will never do—that will never do, if you wish to make yourself a sailor. Begin with your own ship first; learn all about her, then, when you get to be an admiral, as your father's son, my lord, will be certain to become, it will be time enough to be inquiring about the rest of the fleet."
"You forget, Captain Stowel—"
"That will do, Lord Geoffrey," Bluewater soothingly interposed, for he knew that the Captain preached no more than he literally practised; "if I am satisfied with your report, no one else has a right to complain. Desire Sir Wycherly Wychecombe to meet me on deck, where we will now go, Stowel, and take a look at the weather for ourselves."