"I won't tell you," he replied, with a faint show of spirit, which his quivering form belied.
"Disobliging blighter," commented the captain. "Very well, then. There's nothing more to be said at present. You'll go back to your cell. Tomorrow you will look upon the sun for the last time." Without giving the Admiralty official another look, Trevorrick touched the bell.
"Remove Jones," he ordered.
"By Jove, man!" ejaculated Pengelly, after Chamfer had been taken away; "he would have told. I could see it on his face."
"I didn't look," was the unconcerned response. "To-morrow he'll be as docile as a dove. And while I'm about it," he added, "in future you will drop that tone of familiarity you've been in the habit of using. Remember, as your captain I am entitled to the word 'sir.'... You'd better turn in now, Pengelly."
Pengelly got up and went out without a word. The door had hardly closed when the captain recalled him.
"Good-night, Pengelly."
"Good-night, sir!"
"Nothing like putting it across the prevaricating blighter," soliloquised Trevorrick. "Without proper respect all discipline goes by the board."
Pengelly, in his cabin, was indulging in different views.