Dicky said nothing, but continued to twirl his cap, while his eyes roamed uneasily around the captain's orderly cabin. And there, sitting on a sofa, with a dolly in her lap, was a little dark-eyed girl dressed in mourning, who was watching Dicky with great interest.
"What have you been doing, sir, to get yourself in such a mess as you are?"
"Catching cockroaches down in the hold, sir, with Barham," answered Dicky, in a quavering voice.
"A nice employment for two young gentlemen. When I was a midshipman, I employed my leisure in studying my profession."
"Yes, sir. That's what all the officers tell us. Barham and I are the only fellows I ever heard of that did anything but study their profession."
Captain Sarsfield looked very hard indeed at Dicky. Was it possible that this dirty and ingenuous youth was poking fun at a post-captain? But could deceit reside in those innocent eyes and that timid, boyish voice? The captain was in doubt.
"At all events," he continued, with an appalling look at the smut on Dicky's sunburned nose, "your appearance, sir, is disgraceful. I believe you are the dirtiest midshipman in his Majesty's service, and you will be docked of leave to go ashore for the next eight days."
The captain was about to deliver Dicky a lecture, when an orderly tapped at the cabin door and saluted.
"The new cutter has come, sir, and is about to be taken aboard."