"No, sir! Indeed, I did not! Won't you forgive me?" pleaded McDougal, still upon his knees.
"What does all this mean?" demanded Pelham, who was officer of the deck, as he rushed to the spot from the topgallant forecastle, where he had gone to keep out of the way of the splashing waters.
"O, Mr. Pelham," groaned the hoseman, "I am so sorry!"
"Get up!" said Pelham to the culprit, sternly, for anything like servility was very disgusting to him, and probably he had his own views in regard to Mr. Hamblin.
McDougal obeyed this imperative command, and though, ordinarily, a young man of nerve and of much self-possession, he appeared to be trembling with apprehension. His lips quivered, his knees smote against each other, and he stood wringing his hands, apparently in the most abject terror.
"I didn't mean to do it, Mr. Pelham," chattered the miserable hoseman.
"Mr. Pelham, in my opinion this act was deliberately contrived and carried out," said Mr. Hamblin, severely, though he was evidently somewhat moved by the misery of the culprit.
"I am very sorry for it, sir, whether it was done on purpose or by accident," replied Pelham. "Where were you, sir, when it happened?"
"I was sitting on that frame," answered Mr. Hamblin, pointing to the place.
"On the fife-rail?"