“Thank you, captain,” replied Gregory meekly.
“Sir Philip, this is Mr. Gregory,” said the captain, as the young baronet was about to pass them.
“Mr. Gregory, I am happy to make your acquaintance,” replied Sir Philip with no sign of recognition; and the baronet passed out of the cabin.
Gregory was utterly confounded at the conduct of his cousin. The captain soon after presented Lord Fillgrove, whom the ex-first officer had met not more than two years before; but he was as innocent of all knowledge of him as his cousin had been. Neither of them seemed to be inclined to cultivate his acquaintance, perhaps because he was under a cloud just then. After breakfast Gregory went on deck, where he met the “sprigs” again.
“You don’t know me, do you, Phil?” demanded Gregory, with considerable indignation in his tones.
“Of course I know you, Dave,” replied Sir Philip coldly, as he looked about him to ascertain what officers were in sight. But none were on the poop-deck; for all of them not on duty were attending to their studies.
“You seem to be as stiff as though you were not glad to see me,” added Gregory.
“I came on board of this ship on purpose to get you out of this scrape, and I will do it yet; but we had better seem not to know each other very well,” replied Sir Philip, gazing at the blue sky above him. “Wait till we get to Funchal. I want you to go with Fillgrove and me on an excursion of a year or two.”
“All right, Phil. I thought by your actions that you intended to cut me,” added Gregory, seeing the wisdom of his cousin’s precaution. “I want to get out of the academy squadron.”
“You shall; and we will have a bigger lark than we did when you were in England before.”