“Indeed!” said Mr Stormcock, with a whistle of surprise at this extraordinary assertion. “How do you make that out?”
“Because he sent Jack Vernon in the first cutter in my place.”
“Oh, you ass! It was for that, then, that you were fighting this poor chap here, who I’m sure you ought to be grateful to for taking a very nasty job off your hands. See, he’s not only wet to the skin, but narrowly escaped going to the bottom, as you know; and now, in return for this kindness, you try to wop him, and end in getting wopped instead yourself. Anstruther, you’re an ass, and more than that, you’re an ungrateful ass; and I’ve half a mind to thrash you myself for your conduct to Vernon!”
“I never thought of it in that light,” said Ned, holding out his fist to me in a different fashion to that in which I had presented mine to him shortly before. “Let us be friends again, old chap. I’m very sorry I struck you, Jack; but I was so jealous of your going off in the cutter and angry at being left behind that I didn’t think of what I was doing.”
“Well, I’m sorry I hit you, too, my dear Ned,” said I, shaking hands in a cordial grip. “I hope I didn’t hurt you much.”
“You’ve only given me a black eye, which will make me go on the sick list,” he replied with a grin. “I can’t very well appear on the quarter-deck with the ‘Blue Peter’ hoisted; for, the cap’en would notice it in a minute and ask me how I came by it.”
“There would be no difficulty about that,” interposed Mr Stormcock; “you could tell him the commander gave it to you, for you said just now he was the cause of all the row, you know.”
This made us both laugh, and dinner being now ready, Ned Anstruther and I went into the gunroom together as soon as I had completed my interrupted toilet.
Here, sitting side by side, the best of friends, and enjoying our pea soup, no one looking at us not in the secret would have readily imagined that any such “little unpleasantness,” as I have described had just occurred between us two; though, I am happy to be able to state, this was our first and last quarrel, Ned and I remaining the closest chums ever after and never subsequently having even a word squabble.
During the afternoon, the wind veered to the north-west, blowing stronger after the sun passed the meridian and increasing hourly so much in force that, at Four Bells, we hauled down the jib and close-reefed the spanker, the mizzen topsail being also taken in at the same time.