“Yes—I’ve got business to do there. I’ll be back, all bein’ well, in a week—more or less.”
The clerk’s eyebrows remained in a raised position for a few moments, until he remembered that Captain Roy, being owner of his ship and cargo, was entitled to do what he pleased with his own and himself. Then they descended, and he went on with his work, amusing himself with the thought that the most curious beings in the world were seafaring men.
“Mr Moor,” said the captain somewhat excitedly, as he reached the deck of his vessel, “are all the men aboard?”
“All except Jim Sloper, sir.”
“Then send and hunt up Jim Sloper at once, for we sail this afternoon for the Keeling Islands.”
“Very well, sir.”
Mr Moor was a phlegmatic man; a self-contained and a reticent man. If Captain Roy had told him to get ready to sail to the moon that afternoon, he would probably have said “Very well, sir,” in the same tone and with the same expression.
“May I ask, sir, what sort of cargo you expect there?” said Mr Moor; for to his practical mind some re-arrangement of the cargo already on board might be necessary for the reception of that to be picked up at Keeling.
“The cargo we’ll take on board will be a girl,” said the captain.
“A what, sir?”