“Ah, I’ve been through something since I saw you last, my lad,” he said, shaking his head. “The great thing is, Joe, to always keep your head above water.”
“Yessir,” said the seaman, slowly; “but I ’eard as ’ow you went down with the Golden Cloud, sir.”
“So I did,” said Flower, somewhat boastfully, “and came up again with the nearest land a mile or two under my feet. It was dark, but the sea was calm, and I could see the brute that sunk us keeping on her way. Then I saw a hen-coop bobbing up and down close by, and I got to it just in time, and hung on to it until I could get my breath again and shout. I heard a hail a little way off, and by-and-by I got along-side two of our chaps making themselves comfortable on two or three spars. There were three drowned fowls in my coop, and we finished them on the fourth day just as a whaler hove in sight and took us off. We were on her over four months, and then we sighted the barque California, homeward bound, and she brought us home. I landed at the Albert Docks this morning, and here I am, hard as nails.”
Joe, with a troubled eye in the direction of the cabin, murmured that it did him credit, and Mr. Green made a low, hissing noise, intended to signify admiration. Flower, with a cheery smile, looked round the deck.
“Where’s Fraser?” he enquired.
“He’s ashore, sir,” said Joe, hastily. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
“Never mind, I’ll wait,” was the reply. “George was telling me he is to be married on Thursday.”
Joe gasped and eyed him closely.
“So I’ve ’eard, sir.”
“And, Captain Barber’s married, too, George tells me,” said Flower. “I suppose that’s right?”