How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable all this appeared to me at the time I will remember; but the obnoxious turns were shaken out, and the sail set again so as to please even the fastidious eye of the Lieutenant, who, seeing nothing more to find fault with, addressed me once more.
“Have had no grub since morning, Mr Cringle; all the others are away in the prizes; you are as good as one of us now, only want the order to join, you know—so will you oblige me, and take charge of the deck, until I go below and change my clothes, and gobble a bit?”
“Unquestionably,—with much pleasure.”
He forthwith dived, and I walked aft a few steps towards where the old quartermaster was standing on the gun.
“How is her head, Quartermaster?”
“South-east and by south, sir. If the wind holds, we shall weather Morant Point, I think, sir.”
“Very like, very like.—What is that glancing backwards and forwards across the port-hole there, Quartermaster?”
“I told you so, Mafame,” said the man; “what are you skylarking about the mizen-chains for, man?—Come in, will you, come in.”
The Captain’s caution to his servant flashed on me.
“Come in, my man, and give my respects to the Captain, and tell him that I am quite well now; the fresh air has perfectly restored me.”