CHAPTER XII.
THE DRUNKEN CAPTAIN.
"Lay aloft, and help shake out the fore-topsail," said the captain to Noddy, who was standing by the wheel-man, watching the movements of the vessel. "Be lively! What are you staring at?"
The captain's tones were stern and ugly. He had evidently taken another glass of gin since he came on board. He was sufficiently intoxicated to be unreasonable, though he could walk straight, and understood perfectly what he was about. Noddy did not like the harsh tones in which the order was given, and he did not move as lively as he would have done if the words had been spoken pleasantly. He had not yet learned the duty of prompt obedience, be the tones what they may.
He went aloft, and helped the men who were at work on the topsail. As soon as the sheets were hauled home, the captain hailed him from the deck, and ordered him to shake out the fore-top-gallant sail. Noddy had moved so leisurely before, that the command came spiced with a volley of oaths; and the cabin-boy began to feel that he was getting something more than he had bargained for. He shook out the sail, and when the yard had been raised to its proper position, he went on deck again.
The Roebuck was dashing briskly along with a fresh southerly breeze; and if Noddy had not been troubled with a suspicion that something was wrong, he would have enjoyed the scene exceedingly. He had begun to fear that Captain McClintock was a tyrant, and that he was doomed to undergo many hardships before he saw his native land again.
"Don't be troubled, Noddy," said Mollie, in a low tone, as she placed herself by his side at the lee rail. "My father isn't cross very often."
"I don't like to be spoken to in that way," replied he, trying to banish a certain ill feeling which was struggling for expression in his words and manner.
"You mustn't mind that, Noddy. That's the way all sea captains speak."