"I am so very sorry," said the Sub, chaffing them, "but for my sake, do try and keep alive till dinner-time!"
"Now do, just for our sakes!" shouted nearly everyone—except Jim, who was angry, and I rather fancy I didn't, because I was angry too, for it really wasn't fair sport to make fun of such an ass as Dicky.
The buglers sounded off "evening quarters" just then, so Pongo and Dicky escaped any more "rotting", though they dare not have any tea or cake, even when the Sub's back was turned, because that was against the rules.
Directly after the "dismiss" was sounded, Jim and I were sent for by the Captain. All our excitement simply fell out of us, and we were fearfully frightened—Jim was as pale as a sheet. We went in together and stood to attention in front of him, quaking all over.
"Umph!" he growled. "What's the meaning of this?" and he held out the hateful telegram; but we hadn't the pluck to say anything—words wouldn't come. "Infernal cheek, that's what it was, and must have cost you a pretty penny," and he glared at us over his cigar smoke. "A pretty penny, eh?"
Jim managed to tell him "One pound fifteen, sir."
"Umph! silly young fools," and then he hunted through drawer after drawer in his knee-hole table, we didn't know in the least what was going to happen—Jim told me afterwards that he thought he was hunting for a cane—found a couple of sovereigns and gave us each one—I nearly dropped mine, I was so surprised—and growled out, "Off you go; don't do it again."
We just had the presence of mind to say, "Thank you, sir," and streaked out like lightning, feeling happier than I can tell you, for now we hadn't a worry in the world—well, hardly, for the Sub didn't really count, nor Dicky either—and we had nothing to spoil our thinking about the pirates.
That very afternoon Mr. Hobbs and Miss Hobbs came on board to tea with the Commander, and he presently sent down to tell the Sub to have the place "tidied up", as she wanted to come down and see the gunroom. She came, too, in a few minutes, and those of us who could not escape were introduced to her, and then she sat down at our old "jingly" piano and sang nigger songs to us, and we got over being shy, and the others gradually came in, and we crowded round her, standing on the benches and table, and joined in the choruses.
She was so absolutely "ripping", that when she went away we all sang "For she's a jolly good fellow", and did the hip! hip! hooray! part jolly well—because we meant it. She got quite white, I don't know why, some tears actually ran all down her face, she put her hand on Mr. Langham's arm—he looked jolly uncomfortable, but couldn't move away because he kicked up against the gunroom stove—and said, "Guess you're all too sweet for words," and slipped away back to the Commander's cabin, where her father was. That made us quiet again—the tear part, I mean—and she looked such a regular "brick", that we all would have done anything for her, and it made it still more exciting to know that it was her yacht which we were going to try and get back. Jim swore that he'd "scupper" the brute who'd cut off her hair, if he could find him, and I'm certain that we all wanted to have a jolly good try too.