"I mean that it is a relief to get out of the small boat into the ship. Ever so little a distance in a boat disagrees with me."
"Oh, that's it, is it?"
"Yes; and if you have no particular objection, I will go below at once. I daresay the cabin accommodation is very good on board the Lively William."
"Oh, quite wonderful!" said the captain. "If you will come with me Mr.—a—a—what's your name?"
"Wilkins," said Todd.
"Oh, Mr. Wilkins. Well, if you will come with me, I shall have the very great pleasure of showing you what a capital berth we can give you."
"Thank you," said Todd, and then, rather timidly, for the staircase down which the captain dived seemed to Todd better adapted for poultry than for human beings, he carefully followed his new friend.
The cabin of the Lively William was a woful place. Any industrious house-wife would have sneered at it as a linen-cupboard; and if it had been mentioned as a store-room in any establishment of pretentions, it would have excited universal reprobation. It had a roof which nobbed Todd's head if he attempted to stand upright; and the walls sloped to the shape of the sides of the Lively William. The window was a square hole, with a sliding shutter; and the furniture would have made the dingiest broker's shop in London blush to own it.
"This is the state cabin," said the captain.
"Really?" said Todd.