O’Hara talked and chuckled and laughed like one who felt that he occupied a strong position. He was quite happy over it; for, if there was to be any trouble on board, he was altogether in the right, and the other party all in the wrong.
“What did you say then?” inquired Tom Speers, desiring to know whether or not there was any foundation for his fears and suspicion.
“I told them that showed we differed in opinion a little taste; and I smiled as swately as though I was spaking to Miss Louise in the cabin below. And that reminds me to say I think the girl is a little swate on you, Tom, my boy, since you pulled her out of the say,” said the captain, getting excited as he proceeded, and relapsing into his Irish brogue.
“Never mind the girl,” added Tom impatiently, though he blushed a little as he turned away to wipe off the dampness that had gathered on his face from the fog. “I am not one of your romantic pups who think a girl ought to be his wife because he has rendered her some little service.”
“Faix, it was no little service you rendered her; for she was sure to be drowned if you hadn’t got to her with the life-buoy as soon as you did.”
“Never mind that now, Capt. O’Hara,” interposed the young hero.
“Oh! you are not on duty now; and you needn’t measure off your words into lengths with me just now,” said O’Hara, with a laugh.
“Do you think Gregory is discontented?” asked Tom.
“If his words come from his heart, he is; but that is his fault,” replied the captain very lightly. “If he don’t like the arrangement of the watches, he can’t help himself; for I am the commander of this ship.”
“Excuse me, O’Hara, as I am not on duty just now, if I speak to you as a friend.”