The row across the intervening space of ocean was made rapidly, for the sea being perfectly smooth, the small boat, propelled by two strong men, sheared its way easily through the surface. The sun rose higher above our heads and the heat was intolerable.
Arriving alongside, I saw Garnett leaning over the rail amidships, gazing down at us. He was joined by half the watch, and then he pulled out his little vial and sniffed at it hard while he mopped his bald head.
“Now that’s what I call sailorizing, fer a fact,” said he. “Sink me, Mr. Gore, but that’s the way all mates should go about, with a trim little tender alongside. What have ye got? Beef? Beer? I’ll call the old man—wait.”
“Hold on,” I cried, “wait until I—”
But it was too late, the old mate had gone aft, and in a moment he was calling down the cabin companionway to his master.
“I hev to report a small boat alongside, sir,” said Garnett, in a loud tone, sticking his head under the slide of the hatchway. Captain Webster was evidently dozing, for he made no answer at once. Then the mate repeated the hail.
“Boat alongside? Tell him to get away at once,” came the voice, now aroused. “What does he mean by coming alongside? Who is it, that Yankee?”
“’Tis the mate an’ a young lady, an’ they’ve got some beer, bull-beef, an’ a lot o’ papers fer you, sir.”
“Get that accommodation ladder over the side, Mr. Garnett, and ask the lady aboard. Don’t keep her waiting,—jump, or I’ll come on deck myself.”