"To Mr. Holland, I believe he is," said George; "but I have not the pleasure of knowing his name."
"Oh, you may know my name as soon as you like," cried the admiral. "The enemies of old England know it, and I don't care if all the world knows it. I'm old Admiral Bell, something of a hulk now, but still able to head a quarter-deck if there was any need to do so."
"Ay, ay," cried Jack, and taking from his pocket a boatswain's whistle, he blew a blast so long, and loud, and shrill, that George was fain to cover his ears with his hands to shut out the brain-piercing, and, to him unusual sound.
"And are you, then, a relative," said Marchdale, "of Mr. Holland's, sir, may I ask?"
"I'm his uncle, and be d——d to him, if you must know, and some one has told me that the young scamp thinks of marrying a mermaid, or a ghost, or a vampyre, or some such thing, so, for the sake of the memory of his poor mother, I've come to say no to the bargain, and d—n me, who cares."
"Come in, sir," said George, "I will conduct you to Mr. Holland. I presume this is your servant?"
"Why, not exactly. That's Jack Pringle, he was my boatswain, you see, and now he's a kind o' something betwixt and between. Not exactly a servant."
"Ay, ay, sir," said Jack. "Have it all your own way, though we is paid off."
"Hold your tongue, you audacious scoundrel, will you."
"Oh, I forgot, you don't like anything said about paying off, cos it puts you in mind of—"