“That is the name I gave when I bought the tickets. I noticed that Stout called you Bark.”
“My name is Barclay; and you can call me that, or Bark for short.”
“Bark don’t sound very respectful, and it reminds one of a dog.”
“My bark is on the wave; and I do not object to the name. I was always called Bark before I went to sea, and it sounds more natural to me than any thing else would. My father always called me Barclay; and I believe he was the only one that did.”
“All right, Bark: if you don’t object, I need not. You hinted that you did not think you should go back to the Tritonia.”
“It wouldn’t be safe for me to do so,” replied Bark anxiously.
“I have come to the conclusion that it is always the safest to do the right thing, whatever the consequences may be.”
“What! stay in the brig the rest of the voyage!”
“Yes, if that is the penalty for doing the right thing,” replied Henry, as he chooses to be called.
“Suppose you were in my place; that you had tried to set the vessel on fire, and had run away: what would you do?”