He hemmed and hawed for a moment; but seeing that my invitation was cordially given, and I suppose having nothing else particularly to do, he accepted—whence this story.
Volume Two--Chapter Two.
Wind and Steam.
When I had made the pensioner as comfortable as I could at my little place—attending carefully to the wants of his inner man before appearing to have any curiosity regarding the matter that had made me invite him home—and the tea-things were cleared away, I gave a sort of inquiring cough, which he immediately took as my signal for him to begin his yarn.
“After serving a year in the London, as I told you before, sir,” he commenced, without any preliminary beating about the bush, as many a landsman would have done, “I was drafted on to an old cruiser called the Dolphin. She’s been broken up now, like the old London, though I hear they’ve got a rare smart despatch-boat just building called by the same name; but the Dolphin as I’m speaking of is quite different and not the same vessel—remember that, sir, please, in case anybody should try to throw doubts on my yarn, as some of them sea-lawyers will.”
“I assure you,” said I to encourage him, “that I am quite satisfied as to the truth of your story.”
“Well, then,” he resumed, “the Dolphin I am speaking of to you, sir, was a pretty fast boat for a paddle-steamer, and had already made some tidy captures of slave-dhows—that is, since she had been commissioned and sent out from England, about six months before, to replace an old sailing brig that formerly did duty on the station as tender to the old London; so I fully expected when I jined her to have some smart work afore me—and I warn’t disapinted neither!”
“No?” said I questioningly to lead him on, settling myself cosily in my chair.