“Did you mew?” inquired the skipper.
“Did I wot, sir?” cried the astonished Bob.
“Mew,” said the skipper sharply, “like a cat?”
“No, sir,” said the offended seaman. “What ’ud I want to do that for?”
“I don’t know what you want to for,” said the skipper, looking round him uneasily. “There’s some more rain coming, Bob.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” said Bob.
“Lot o’ rain we’ve had this summer,” said the skipper, in a meditative bawl.
“Ay, ay, sir,” said Bob. “Sailing-ship on the port bow, sir.”
The conversation dropped, the skipper, anxious to divert his thoughts, watching the dark mass of sail as it came plunging out of the darkness into the moonlight until it was abreast of his own craft. His eyes followed it as it passed his quarter, so that he saw not the stealthy approach of the cat which came from behind the companion, and sat down close by him. For over thirty hours the animal had been subjected to the grossest indignities at the hands of every man on board the ship except one. That one was the skipper, and there is no doubt but that its subsequent behaviour was a direct recognition of that fact. It rose to its feet, and crossing over to the unconscious skipper, rubbed its head affectionately and vigorously against his leg.
From simple causes great events do spring. The skipper sprang four yards, and let off a screech which was the subject of much comment on the barque which had just passed. When Bob, who came shuffling up at the double, reached him he was leaning against the side, incapable of speech, and shaking all over.