“You are very kind, sir, but I have really no chance of recovery; and am so entirely incompetent for exertion, that I think I had better keep to my first resolution.”
“Exertion—you need not exert yourself! leave that to the master and first lieutenant. Why, what do half the captains do now-a-days, but live on shore, and only go off to the ship when there is a man to be flogged, or some other excitement!”
“There are such instances, but they are hardly the rule, sir.”
“And you must know your friend here too well, to expect him to follow such exceptional courses,” said Sir Charles, smiling at the admiral.
“I don’t mean to say it’s right; but a captain with a head like Hepburn’s, even though he had no legs, would be better than many a big lubber all legs and arms, without any head to bless himself with. And I know such on this very station; depending entirely on their first lieutenant.”
“Still I would rather have my own way,” said the captain.
“Obstinate fellow! Think of the pay; you have a wife and family, have you not?”
“A wife, sir; but I will not take pay for work I can not perform!”
“One of your absurd romances, Hepburn. I know you of old.”
“Not very absurd, I think: simply honest. And if a captain is of any thing beyond nominal use, let the Erratic have one for the voyage who can move himself without help, either mental or personal.”