“Mr. Peaks,” said he, in the gentlest of tones.
“Well, my lad, what shall I do for you?” replied the boatswain, closing his book, and going to the door of the brig.
“I’m very thirsty, and want a glass of water. Will you give me one?”
“Certainly, my boy.”
The boatswain passed a mug of water through the bars, and Clyde drank as though he was really thirsty.
“You have worked hard, and it makes you dry,” said Peaks. “You can keep a mug of water in the brig if you like.”
“I will,” replied Clyde, as he placed the mug on the deck, after the boatswain had filled it. “Can’t you let me out, Mr. Peaks?”
“Certainly I can.”
“You will—won’t you?”
“With all my heart.”