Chapter Twenty Two.
An Old Acquaintance.
“Hullo!” exclaimed a voice that seemed very familiar to me, on my getting down to the mess-deck below with my bag, when I had got my number, and been told off to my watch and division. “Who’d ha’ thought o’ meeting yer here?”
The speaker was a broad-shouldered chap, with a lot of hair all over his face, and I did not recognise him for the moment.
“You’ve got the advantage of me, mate,” said I civilly, not wishing to hurt his feelings if he had made a mistake in addressing me, as I believed he had. “I can’t place you.”
“Lor’, carn’t yer?” replied the chap, with a broad grin stealing over his face. “I fancies, Tom Bowlin’, I hed th’ adwantage on yer onst, an’ placed yer too, that time I cut yer down in yer hammick aboard the Saint Vincent, hey, old ship?”
It was Larrikins.
Needless to say how glad I was to meet him again, or what yarns we had to tell each other of what had happened to us respectively since last we met.