"How long?" repeated the captain. "Forever, if I choose. And now as this is the last conversation which I intend to hold with you on this point, you will bear in mind that you are shipped on board this vessel as a boy, and that, if you don't do your duty you'll get——"
We suppress the word with which the captain closed his sentence, not being willing to soil our pages with it.
This was rather a hard trial for our young hero, accustomed to a mother's gentle and affectionate words. Had he been less manly, he would have burst into tears; but he only turned pale a little, and bit his lips.
"Take him on deck, Mr. Randall, and set him to work," said the captain; "and mind, Jack, that I don't hear any complaints of you."
Charlie followed the mate to the deck. He had made up his mind that he must stay in the ship during the voyage, or, at all events until they reached land somewhere, and resolved that, since it was forced upon him, he would do his duty as well as he could, and so afford as little advantage as possible to those who seemed determined to persecute him.
He was set to work by Randall, who told him, in a sharp tone, to "mind his eye and keep to work, if he knew what was best for himself."
The work was not difficult, but Charlie's fingers were unpractised, and he might very soon have incurred the wrath of the captain and mate, if Bill Sturdy, the sailor whose friendly advances to our hero have already been noticed, had not approached him, the mate being temporarily out of earshot, and given him a little instruction.
"Well, my lad, what news?" inquired Bill. "Shipped for the voyage, are you?"
"That's what the captain and mate say," returned Charlie.
"They're a pair of precious rascals," said Bill, lowering his voice, "and it's my opinion they're well matched, so far as villainy goes."