The captain nodded.
“I’m chick-pecked,” murmured the other.
“What?” inquired the astonished mariner again.
“Chick-pecked,” repeated Mr. Rumbolt firmly. “CHIK-PEKED. D’ye understand me?”
The captain said that he did, and stood silent awhile, with the air of a man who wants to say something, but is half afraid to. At last, with a desperate appearance of resolution, he bent down to the old man’s ear.
“That’s the deaf ’un,” said Mr. Rumbolt promptly.
Hezekiah changed ears, speaking at first slowly and awkwardly, but becoming more fluent as he warmed with his subject; while the expression of his listener’s face gradually changed from incredulous bewilderment to one of uncontrollable mirth. He became so uproarious that he was fain to push the captain away from him, and lean back in his chair and choke and laugh until he nearly lost his breath, at which crisis a remarkably pretty girl appeared from the back of the house, and patted him with hearty good will.
“That’ll do, my dear,” said the choking Mr. Rumbolt. “Here’s Captain Lewis.”
“I can see him,” said his daughter calmly. “What’s he standing on one leg for?”
The skipper, who really was standing in a somewhat constrained attitude, coloured violently, and planted both feet firmly on the ground.