Ned was right. On their return to the ship the ensign in charge of the party got a severe lecture for wasting time, and in order to divert the blame he informed the captain of Herc’s involuntary imprisonment. Accordingly, the red-headed lad’s name was down on the list of those whom the master-at-arms was required to notify to report at the mast the next day.
As has been explained in other volumes of this series, the “mast” is in reality the quarter-deck, where every day the captain adjudicates infractions of naval law and listens to complaints and excuses. The next afternoon Herc faced this tribunal, cap in hand, and inwardly much perturbed.
“Taylor, I am informed that your disobedience of orders delayed the cutter’s return yesterday,” said the captain. “How was that?”
“Well, it was mainly on account of a door, sir,” rejoined Herc.
“Of a door?”
“Yes, sir, a door that I couldn’t open. You see, I was in solitary confinement——”
“Don’t be flippant, sir,” said the captain sternly; “explain yourself properly.”
“I am, sir. I was imprisoned on that convict ship, although I had done nothing but peek into a solitary cell.”
“What are you talking about, sir?” exclaimed the captain, hiding a smile at Herc’s whimsical way of explaining his predicament. “Tell me plainly what happened.”
“I’m trying to, sir.”