"No coffee for this crowd," interposed the head steward, as solemnly.
"But I'm going to have my coffee," added Wilton, whose temper was not the sweetest in the world, as he rose from his stool, and rushed towards the kitchen door.
"Avast, my lad!" said Peaks, taking the rebel by the collar with no gentle force. "It takes water to make coffee."
Wilton was afraid of the boatswain, for there was a tradition on board that he had, on one occasion, laid hands upon a refractory boy, and he was evidently in the steerage for a purpose. He skulked back to his place at the table.
"Can't I have some coffee?" demanded Raymond, of the head steward, when that official came near his seat.
"You cannot."
"Why not?"
"Because it takes water to make coffee."
"What of that?"
"Owing to circumstances, the supply of water on board is rather short," answered the head steward, as solemnly as before.