“What’s that to you? Too many of both. Why do you call me Captain? You knows well enough that I’m not a captain; never was a captain, and never wants to be.”
After this rebuff, the surly Rogers was left to smoke his short black pipe in peace, and in a few minutes the little boat came alongside the huge Leviathan of the deep. A rope was thrown from her deck, which having been secured, the following brief dialogue ensued:
“The City of Edinburgh, for Edinburgh?”
“The Queen of Scotland, for Aberdeen, Captain Fraser.”
This announcement was followed by a look of blank astonishment and disappointment from the party in the boat.
“Where is the City of Edinburgh?”
“We left her in the river. You had better take a passage with us to Aberdeen,” said Captain Fraser, advancing to the side of his vessel.
“Two hundred miles out of my way,” said Lyndsay. “Fall off.” The tow rope was cast loose, and the floating castle resumed her thundering course, leaving the party in the boat greatly disconcerted by the misadventure.
“The City of Edinburgh must soon be here?” said Lyndsay, addressing himself once more to Sam Rogers. That sociable individual continued smoking his short pipe without deigning to notice the speaker. “Had we not better lay-to, and wait for her coming up?”
“No; we should be run down by her. Do you see yon?” pointing with his pipe, to a grey cloud that was rolling over the surface of the sea towards them; “that’s the sea rake—in three minutes: in less than three minutes, you will not be able to discern objects three yards beyond your nose.”