“Of course,” rasped out the captain, “I can’t tolerate any dereliction of duty; but if the young devil made a break for it—”
“Ay, ay, sir,” returned the first lieutenant, and darted down the brass steps three at a time. He called Burder aside and gave his instructions to that discreet youngster, who was sharp to see the point without the need for awkward explanations. A broad grin ran round the boat when Billy was made to descend and take his place beside Burder in the stern; and so palpable and open was the whole business that some aboard even shook the negro by the hand and bade him God-speed.
A couple of hours later Burder embarked again and headed for the ship in a tearing hurry. A chuckle ran along the decks as not a sign of Billy could be made out, and the nearing boat soon put the last doubt at rest. There was no black boy among the blue-jackets.
Burder skipped up the steps and saluted the captain on the bridge.
“I have to report the escape of Billy, sir,” he said, with inimitable gravity and assurance. “I scarcely know how it came to happen, sir, but he managed to bolt as he was walking between Miller and Cracroft.”
“This is a very serious matter,” said the captain, with ill-concealed cheerfulness. “I don’t know but what it is my duty to reprimand you very severely for your carelessness. However, if he’s gone, he’s gone, I suppose. I hope you took measures to recapture him?”
“Yes, sir,” returned Burder. “Looked for him high and low, sir.”
“Poor Billy!” said the captain, with a smile that spoke volumes. “We’ll say no more about it, Mr. Burder; it may be all for the best; but remember, sir, it mustn’t happen again.”
“No, sir,” said Burder.
“How did you manage it, old man?” was the eager question that met the youngster as he took shelter in the ward-room and ordered “a beer.” All his messmates were round him, save Facey, who was officer of the deck and could not do more than hang in the doorway.