Stukeley made a rush at him, but became involved with one of Olivia’s wraps. Cammock stepped between the disputants with his quadrant at his eye.
“Woa, blood,” he said. “Don’t knock my ship overboard. Make eight bells there, will you, Mr. Perrin? Mr. Stukeley, will you please step and tell the steward to set the clock right?”
“Do your own dirty work,” said Stukeley.
The helmsman sniggered audibly. Cammock raised his hat about an inch from his head.
“Quite right, sir,” he said, as Perrin made eight bells. “Quite right to remind me, sir. I forgot you was only a passenger.”
“Steward,” shouted Perrin. “Oh. Mrs. Inigo. Just tell the steward to set the clock right.”
“De clock am set, seh,” said the steward, coming to the break of the poop to ring the bell for dinner.
“Tom dear,” said Olivia, conscious that the man she loved had made but a poor show. “Tom dear. You weren’t very kind. I mean. I think you hurt Captain Cammock. And you made Edward angry. He can’t bear to be teased. He’s not easy-tempered like you, dear. I think sometimes you forget that, don’t you, Tom? You won’t be cross, Tom?”
“Oh, nonsense, Polly,” he said, as he took her arm to lead her below. “Nonsense, you old pretty-eyes. I can’t resist teasing Pilly; he’s such an old hen. As for Cammock, he’s only an old pirate. I’m not going to be ordered about by a man like that. He’s no right to be at liberty.”
Olivia was pleased by the reference to her eyes, so she said no more. She wondered, during dinner, why Captain Margaret ate so little and so silently, and why Perrin never spoke until addressed. Cammock was affable and polite. His attention to Stukeley’s needs was almost oily.