“Chlor,” said O’Hara. “That’s not a nautical word, to be sure.”
“No: it looks more like a medical term,” added Mr. Pelham, who had joined the group gathered around the signal-officer.
“‘O,’” continued Lingall, as another letter was indicated.
“Chloro: that must be chloroform. The professors on board are going to perform a surgical operation.”
“I think not: there is no doctor on board of the Josephine,” added Mr. Pelham.
“It must be some doctor’s stuff,” persisted the fourth lieutenant.
“If you are patient for a few moments longer, you will not be under the necessity of guessing what is wanted. I am satisfied the word is chlorodyne,” said the vice-principal.
“Chlorodyne!” exclaimed O’Hara. “Is that a rope, or something to eat?”
“Neither: it is a medicine with which all the vessels of the squadron are provided; and I have had occasion to administer it several times.”
“If it’s physic I’ve nothing to say; but if there is a rope in the ship that I don’t know, I feel guilty,” said O’Hara, with a mock sigh of relief.