“I may, sir, indeed I may, but”—then came a pause during which I could hear the clink of glasses—“if I do, sir, I’ll head a straight course, sir, and arrive there shipshape with my yards squared, so her Majesty’ll have no cause to be ashamed of me, though I sincerely hope—”
Then the voice of the little skipper drew away, and I glanced at the door of the companionway just as his cap appeared above the combings.
As he stepped on deck he bowed to the ladies and proceeded, with great deliberation, to put on his coat. He had removed it during the discussion below.
“Madam,” said he, addressing Mrs. Waters, “I should extend the hospitality of my ship to you—that is, I would invite you to do me the honour of a visit—were it not that the cargo we carry is unworthy of inspection. I, therefore, wish you a pleasant voyage, and trust your husband will learn moderation from you. If not, he will prove a most uncommon and extraordinary companion for you,” and he waved his hand at Crojack, who stood on the top step of the companionway. The little skipper then walked quietly to the break of the poop and sung out lustily for Mr. Garnett. Captain Crojack remained aft, his face wearing an expression of extreme ill humour.
Garnett was within two fathoms of his master, but he sprang to his feet at the hail and answered, “Ay, ay, sir,” in hurricane tones.
“Mr. Garnett, is the boat ready?”
“Yes, sir, all ready, sir,” bawled the old sailor as he glanced at the two men of his crew. They immediately sprang over the rail and dropped into her.
“Is all the gear in her?”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Then take me aboard my ship as quick as you can, for I’ve wasted all the morning talking to a blockhead.” And he made his way over the side without a word of farewell to Crojack. Garnett followed instantly, and in a few moments they were back again on board the Englishman.