“He’s my guest,” said Stukeley, “and it’s his watch below. I’m damned if he shall go on deck.”
“Are you going, Mr. Iles?”
“Ah, git ter hell.”
“Don’t you hit him,” said Stukeley, as Captain Cammock picked up his little gong-hammer.
“Hit me?” said Iles. “Hit me? B’gee, cap, you hit me and I’ll mark you for life all right, all right.”
“I’m not going to do any hitting, Mr. Stukeley,” said Cammock quietly. He went to the gong and struck it softly till the steward came.
“Send the boatswain to me,” said Cammock.
“I will, seh.”
“What are you going to do now?” said Stukeley. Captain Cammock relit his pipe at the lamp, stopping the red fragments with his thumb. The boatswain knocked at the door, cap in hand.
“Call all hands aft, boatswain.”