“And so you would have made me very unhappy, instead of giving me one of the greatest pleasures of my life,” returned Serge, reproachfully.
“All I can say, then, is that you are easily pleased. And that was the reason why you wouldn’t eat anything, was it? Why, you must be almost as starved by this time as I was then, for even I am hungry again. Now, you just come down-stairs and take lunch with me in the hotel dining-room. After that we will visit the Seamew, and offer my valuable services to your Captain Duff.”
Never in all his life had Serge Belcofsky eaten so sumptuous a meal as that set before him by the young pauper, who, with the air of a prince, played the host on this memorable occasion. Knowing the pecuniary circumstances of his entertainer as he did, Serge could not but admire, while he marvelled at, the nonchalant air with which course after course was ordered, while he was urged to partake of this thing and that, until the resources of the Driard’s larder were wellnigh exhausted.
After thus fortifying themselves for their anticipated interview with Captain Duff, whom Serge had not described as being a particularly affable man, nor one whom it was a joy to meet, the lads strolled down to the cove in which the saucy-looking schooner Seamew lay at anchor. When they finally got on board, Serge left Phil on deck, while he ventured alone into the cabin to make an application on his behalf.
For the space of a minute Phil heard through the open cabin skylight only the tones of an ordinary conversation, the words of which were undistinguishable. Then, all at once, came a thunderous roar of: “No, I tell ye! No! I’ll have no more landlubbers aboard this craft at any price. So clear out and let me hear no more of it.”
The next instant Serge, cap in hand, appeared abruptly at the opening of the companion-way almost as though he had been fired from it. He was closely followed by a big red-faced man with a stubby beard, who, the moment he set foot on deck, gave utterance to a snarl like that of a wild beast. Suddenly, as his eye lighted on Phil, he stood for a moment like one petrified. Then in a tone so soft and bland that Phil instinctively glanced around to see who was speaking, he addressed Serge and asked,
“Is this young sport the friend you was speaking of what ’ud like to ship for a cruise to the nor’ard?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Serge; “this is my friend Phil Ryder, who is so anxious to get to Sitka that he is willing to ship for a voyage to the Shumagins without wages if you will furnish him with an outfit, and agree to set him aboard the same vessel bound for Sitka that you do me.”
“Will he sign to them terms on a shipping-paper?”
“I think so, sir. Won’t you, Phil?”