“Look at him blushing,” said Stukeley, nudging Iles.
At this moment, there came loud cries from the deck, of “Watch there. Watch,” shouted by many voices cheerily. Then there were cries of “Haul in. Haul in. Haul in. Snatch it and run her up.” Then a silence, a sudden stamp of feet, and the voice of some one asking what was on the arming. “Sand and small shells,” came the answer of the boatswain. The diners at the cabin table seemed to see the man raising the heavy plummet to show the spoils stuck upon the grease.
“Land o-o-o-h,” he cried. “Land o-o-o-h. Hooray.” Then the seamen, gathered in the waist, with the redness of the sunset on them, cast loose a gun at Mr. Cottrill’s order. As the cook, coming from the galley with a red-hot poker, called to the men to stand clear of the breech, Captain Cammock bowed to Olivia, raising his glass.
“Mrs. Stukeley,” he said, “we’re in soundings. Your very good health. Soundings, gentlemen. You must all drink to soundings. Now then. There goes the gun. Three cheers.” There were no cheers in Stukeley, though he drank the toast.
Half an hour later, after hearing a few songs, and a jig upon the fiddle, Captain Cammock sat smoking in his cabin. He struck his gong to call the steward. “Ask Mr. Iles to come here, please?” In a few minutes Mr. Iles appeared, followed by Stukeley, who had expected the summons. “Mr. Stukeley,” said the captain, “I shall be pleased to see you later. I wish to talk with Mr. Iles a moment.”
“Thank you,” said Stukeley. “But I wish to hear what you’ve got to say to Mr. Iles.”
“It doesn’t concern you, Mr. Stukeley.” Mr. Iles tittered.
“Mr. Iles is my friend,” said Stukeley. “I’ll make it concern me.”
“Mr. Stukeley. I don’t wish to be rude. But I command here. There’s the door.”
“To hell with the door.”