Dory pulled the line, and gave the required signal. Oscar looked at him with a scowl on his face, but neither of the pilots spoke. The little steamer sheered off, but hardly enough to pass the Sylph in safety. Dory did not like to interfere, lest he should give offence to the waspish associate in the pilot-house.
“Excuse me, Oscar Chester, but you must port the helm a little in order to pass that steamer,” said Dory, when he found that his companion was likely to shave a hair off the approaching vessel.
“You are the first pilot, and I will obey whatever order you give me,” replied Oscar in snappish tones, as he put the wheel to port.
“When a steamer blows one whistle, it is a signal that she intends to go to the starboard of us; and we have to reply with the one whistle,” added Dory, glad to find that the second pilot could speak to him even in waspish tones.
“All right,” growled Oscar.
At this moment one of the hands struck eight strokes, in couples, on the bell on the bitts. Bates had been explaining the bells to the crew.
“All the starboard watch will go to dinner now!” shouted Captain Gildrock.
The first officer and the second pilot were in the starboard watch. The engineer had arranged the watches to suit himself.
“I will relieve you while you are at dinner, Oscar Chester,” said Dory, taking hold of the wheel.
“Thank you,” replied Oscar gruffly, as he left the pilot-house.