“Carry on,” he said aloud. “Bosun, call away the gig. Let the gig’s crew dress. Doctor, there, kill me six fowls. The best we’ve got in the fattening coop. Steward there. Call the steward you, boy. Tell him to bring a dozen Burgundy. Now, Mr. Cottrill, a word with you, sir. Mr. Perrin and the rest, are they all well?”
“As far as I know, they are, sir.”
“Mr. Stukeley?”
“Mr. Stukeley’s like fat Jack of the Boneyard, I guess, sir. He’s bigger than the admiral.”
“What’s he been doing?”
“He’s been wanting the gig’s crew all day. I told him I needed the men in the hold. He’d have to use the long-boat, I said, when she goes in for water.”
“Very right. Yes?”
“So he came and called me down before the men. Said I wasn’t a gentleman. He said as Captain Margaret had said he and his lady was to have the gig whenever they wanted her.”
“Was Mrs. Stukeley there?”
“No, sir. So I up and said that I’d had no orders. Then he calls me down some more; and goes and gets Mr. Perrin to come to me, to say that Captain Margaret wished to oblige Mr. Stukeley in all things.”