The crew were awestruck, for they had never, in all their experience of Captain Corcoran, known him to forget himself as far as to use an expression of this description. Three times too—not once, but three times, as if he revelled in his wickedness! And what made the circumstance more impressive was that as their amazement and agitation subsided, they saw the First Lord of the Admiralty standing, apparently thunderstruck, in their midst!
“I am appalled,” said Sir Joseph, as soon as he could control his tongue. “Simply appalled!”
There was no mistake about it—he was quite white with the shock that the Captain’s language had given him. He was no longer a First Lord—he was a Monument of Pathetic Imbecility.
“To your cabin, Sir,” said he, trembling with emotion, “and consider yourself under the strictest arrest.”
“Sir Joseph,” said Captain Corcoran, “pray hear me—”
“To your cabin, Sir!”
And a couple of marines marched him off under the command of the smallest midshipman in the ship.
A COUPLE OF MARINES MARCHED HIM OFF UNDER THE COMMAND OF THE SMALLEST MIDSHIPMAN IN THE SHIP
Sir Joseph had by this time somewhat recovered his composure.