John Mangles opened his eyes as wide as possible, and stood staring at Olbinett and the stranger alternately.
But without waiting for a reply, the rattling fellow continued:
“Now the introduction is made, my dear captain, we are old friends. Let’s have a little talk, and tell me how you like the SCOTIA?”
“What do you mean by the SCOTIA?” put in John Mangles at last.
“By the SCOTIA? Why, the ship we’re on, of course—a good ship that has been commended to me, not only for its physical qualities, but also for the moral qualities of its commander, the brave Captain Burton. You will be some relation of the famous African traveler of that name. A daring man he was, sir. I offer you my congratulations.”
“Sir,” interrupted John. “I am not only no relation of Burton the great traveler, but I am not even Captain Burton.”
“Ah, is that so? It is Mr. Burdness, the chief officer, that I am talking to at present.”
“Mr. Burdness!” repeated John Mangles, beginning to suspect how the matter stood. Only he asked himself whether the man was mad, or some heedless rattle pate? He was beginning to explain the case in a categorical manner, when Lord Glenarvan and his party came up on the poop. The stranger caught sight of them directly, and exclaimed:
“Ah! the passengers, the passengers! I hope you are going to introduce me to them, Mr. Burdness!”
But he could not wait for any one’s intervention, and going up to them with perfect ease and grace, said, bowing to Miss Grant, “Madame;” then to Lady Helena, with another bow, “Miss;” and to Lord Glenarvan, “Sir.”