Skeel lifted his haggard visage, slowly looked around, got up from his stool.
“In God’s name,” he said hoarsely, “if you’re not utterly shameless, take your rifles and follow me. Look at the sun! Have you lads gone stark mad? What will McDermott think? What will Kelly Walsh say? It’s too late to weigh anchor now; but it isn’t too late to go aboard and sober up, and wait for dark.
“If you’ve a rag of patriotism left you’ll quit your drinking and come with me!”
“Ah, sure, then, Captain dear,” cried Soane, “is there anny harrm in a bite an’ a sup f’r dyin’ lads befoor they go whizzin’ up to glory?”
“I tell you we should be aboard! Now!”
Another said:
“Aw, the cap’s right. To hell with the booze. Come on, youse!” And he began to button his green jacket. Another got up on unsteady legs:
“Sure,” he said, “there do be time f’r to up anchor an’ shquare away for Point Dalhousie. Phwat’s interferin’, I dunno.”
“A Canadian cruiser,” said Skeel with dry bitterness. “Get aboard, anyway. We’ll have to wait for dark.”