“Of course he will.”
“And what will my mother think?” resumed Harry, sorrowfully.
“Oh, she’ll think you’ve been led away, and got into some scrape or other,” said the captain, lightly. “However, she’ll see you again in eighteen months, that is, if we have a fair voyage.”
“Eighteen months!” repeated our hero, in dismay.
“Yes, it’s a long ways to China. You’ll be quite a sailor by the end of that time.”
“I don’t intend to be a sailor,” said Harry.
“Don’t say that again, you impudent young scoundrel. Do you think I will let my cabin-boy address me in that style?”
“I am not your cabin-boy,” said Harry, indignantly.
“That’s your mistake. You’ve got to work your passage. I shan’t allow any skulkers aboard this ship.”
This speech, as well as most of the captain’s, was garnished with oaths, which I choose to omit, though at the risk of conveying an inadequate idea of his brutality and coarseness. Our hero was greatly exasperated at the mean plot which had been concocted against him, and being of a fearless temperament would have given full and free expression to his indignation, and a scene of violence would no doubt have resulted, but for the opportune entrance of Mr. Weldon, the supercargo.