It must be confessed that at lunch the newcomer justified the Doctor's worst forebodings. Afterwards the First Lieutenant and the Paymaster had an earnest colloquy. Then the latter sought his new assistant; he found him gloomily turning over the pages of a six-months-old illustrated paper.
"What do you think of the ship?" he asked cheerfully.
"Rotten slow lot," replied the A.P.; "I tried to make things hum a bit at lunch and they all sat looking like stuffed owls."
"Ah, you'll find it different this evening after the Commander has gone. Bad form to tell smoking-room yarns while he's here."
Meanwhile the First Lieutenant visited the Commander in his cabin.
"Very well," said the latter on parting; "only mind, no unnecessary violence."
"I understand, Sir. I hope it won't be necessary."
The Assistant Paymaster had no cause to complain of lack of hilarity at dinner. The most trivial remark was greeted with roars of merriment. When the KING'S health had been drunk the Commander pleaded letters and left the ward-room. Instantly a perfect babel arose. Everyone seemed to be asking everyone else to have a drink. The newcomer selected a large whisky.
"Wilkes," said the First Lieutenant, "one large whisky, one dozen soda, one dozen ginger-beer and two large bottles of lime-juice."
"Large bottles, you blighter!" he yelled after the back of the astonished marine who went out to fulfil this remarkable order.