I thought I saw just the glimmer of a smile around the corners of his mouth as he said this, and looked for some reply from my talkative mate. Richards made no further remark, and the conversation turned to more sailor-like topics.
We talked rather late, as the skipper was most fatherly in his manner, and, when the fellow Martin suggested he would go ashore and get his dunnage, it was found that Henry had taken the boat without the nigger, and had not sent it back aboard.
“It is of no great consequence, I hope,” said Watkins. “You two, Mr. Heywood and Richards, may turn in the port room; you, Mr. Martin and Mr. Anderson, to starboard, and perhaps in the morning I can let you have the day ashore.”
Then we separated. Richards and I tossed a coin to see who would get the bunk, and I won. I arranged my coat for a pillow and soon fell asleep, leaving my roommate to shift for himself on the deck.
Once or twice during the night I thought I heard stealthy footsteps overhead, and once it seemed to me that the barque was heeling over a bit. Finally I was awakened by a loud banging at my door, and, springing up, found it was broad day. Then it suddenly dawned upon me that the barque was under way.
Opening the door, I found a strange fellow scowling at me. He was dressed as a common sailor and was a bit drunk.
It is just as well to start discipline right aboard a ship, thought I, so I hitched my trousers’ belt the tighter before sailing in to show how an American mate whangs the deviltry and liquor out of a foreign skin when aroused from pleasant dreams. I noticed the absence of Richards, but thought he had already turned out for duty. Then I accosted the fellow and asked softly what he wanted.
“What cher doin’ in my room, yer bloomin’ swine?” he howled. “Git out an’--”
I had stopped him with a right swing on the jaw, and the next instant we were loping about that cabin in fine style. In a moment there was a rush of feet, and something crashed on my head. Then followed stars and darkness.