Mr. Lowington had cautioned him and other officers to be very prudent in dealing with the new student till he had become accustomed to his duty, and certainly De Forrest was prudent in the extreme. Perhaps Clyde misunderstood the purpose of this officer when approaching him, and suspected that he intended to use violence, for, drawing back, he made a pass at De Forrest with his fist. But the latter detected the nature of the demonstration in season to ward off the blow, and, still in the exercise of the extreme prudence which had before characterized his conduct, retreated to the other side of the quarter-deck.
“Enough of that,” said Judson, the first lieutenant, as he stepped between Clyde and De Forrest.
Clyde was very angry. Though he had made up his mind to perform his duty in the beginning, he fancied that no one had the right to command him to be silent. In his wrath he pulled off his blue jacket, tossed it upon the deck with a flourish, and intimated that if the first lieutenant wanted to fight, he was ready for him. Happily the first lieutenant did not wish to fight, though he was fully prepared to defend himself. At this crisis, the principal observed the hostile attitude of the young Briton, and quietly ordered Peaks to interfere.
“Go forward, Blacklock,” said Judson, calmly.
“I won’t go forward! I have been insulted, and I’ll break the sconce of the fellow that did it,” added Clyde, glancing at the fourth lieutenant.
“Come, my hearty, let us go forward, as we are ordered,” interposed Peaks, as he picked up Clyde in his arms, and in spite of his struggles, carried him into the waist.
It was useless to resist the big boatswain, and the pressure of Peaks’s arms soon crushed out Clyde’s anger, and like a little child, he was set down upon the deck, amid the laughter of his companions. He felt that he was not getting ahead at all; and though he reserved the expression of his anger, he determined at the first convenient opportunity to thrash both Judson and De Forrest. He had also decided to run away at the first chance, even if he had to camp on a desolate island in doing so. He regarded Peaks as a horrible ogre, whose only mission in the ship was to persecute and circumvent him.
“I’ll have it out with those nobs yet,” said Clyde, as Peaks left him, restored to his senses, so far as outward appearances were concerned.
“Have it out! Have what out?” asked Scott, the good-natured.
“I’ll whip that nob who told me to be silent.”