At this moment he was interrupted by the whiskered officer, who had entered unperceived behind him, and now laid a hand upon his shoulder. The sudden pallor, the deadly and sick fear, that was imprinted on the steward’s face, formed a startling addition to his words.
‘Parker!’ said the officer, and pointed towards the door.
‘Yes, Mr. Kentish,’ said the steward. ‘For God’s sake, Mr. Kentish!’ And vanished, with a white face, from the cabin.
Thereupon the officer bade me sit down, and began to help me, and join in the meal. ‘I fill your ladyship’s glass,’ said he, and handed me a tumbler of neat rum.
‘Sir,’ cried I, ‘do you expect me to drink this?’
He laughed heartily. ‘Your ladyship is so much changed,’ said he, ‘that I no longer expect any one thing more than any other.’
Immediately after, a white seaman entered the cabin, saluted both Mr. Kentish and myself, and informed the officer there was a sail in sight, which was bound to pass us very close, and that Mr. Harland was in doubt about the colours.
‘Being so near the island?’ asked Mr. Kentish.
‘That was what Mr. Harland said, sir,’ returned the sailor, with a scrape.
‘Better not, I think,’ said Mr. Kentish. ‘My compliments to Mr. Harland; and if she seem a lively boat, give her the stars and stripes; but if she be dull, and we can easily outsail her, show John Dutchman. That is always another word for incivility at sea; so we can disregard a hail or a flag of distress, without attracting notice.’