“And where was the captain when this happened?” asked Weldon, suspiciously.
“In his cabin. I went down to tell him, and ask to have a boat lowered to save the poor lad; but he swore that if he was careless enough to fall overboard he must save himself.”
The supercargo was not an excitable man, but rather mild and pacific in his disposition; but when he heard of the cold-blooded manner in which Captain Brandon had refused help to the drowning boy, he was filled with a just indignation, which he was unable to conceal.
“Where is Captain Brandon?” he asked, in a quick, stern voice, so unusual to him that Tom looked up in surprise.
“In his cabin, Mr. Weldon. He gave orders that he should not be disturbed.”
“That, for his orders!” returned the supercargo, snapping his fingers contemptuously. “He shall be disturbed, and he shall answer to me for his atrocious inhumanity!” And Mr. Weldon hurried to the rear of the companion-way.
“I didn’t think he had so much spirit,” said Tom, as he followed with his glance the retreating form of the supercargo, “he’s so mild-like, commonly. But I’m glad the poor lad’s got some one that’ll dare to speak up for him. I’d do it, but the captain’d knock me down with a marlin-spike, and put me in irons, likely, if I did.”
The captain’s attention was drawn to a quick, imperative knock at the door of the cabin.
“Go away!” he growled. “I do not wish to be disturbed.”