Directly the motor-pinnace had been hoisted Kenneth formally reported the accident to the officer-of-the-watch, who was pacing the quarter-deck.
“Commander wishes to see you in his cabin, my lad,” observed the officer-of-the-watch.
Knowing full well that the Bloke’s wishes were a command, Kenneth went below “at the double”, and knocked at the sliding door bearing the intimation in raised brass letters that it gave access to the cabin of the immediate arbiter of his destinies.
“Of all the lubberly ways of coming alongside, yours is the worst exhibition I’ve seen since I’ve been in the Service,” began the commander without any preamble. “What have you to say?”
“I tried to put the wheel hard-a-starboard and it jammed, sir.”
Ever since he had gained the rank that gave him gilt oak leaves on his cap, the commander had almost daily listened to excuses from lower-deck defaulters, and less frequently to explanations often highly exaggerated from junior officers. Long familiarity had bred contempt and invariably he looked upon an excuse as a feeble attempt to mitigate the penalty. He had become a past master in the art of bowling out a defaulter.
“Stand fast a minute,” he ordered, and left the cabin.
In point of fact the midshipman had to “stand fast” for a long five minutes before the Bloke returned with a cold triumphant look in his eyes.
“The steering-gear has been thoroughly tested,” he announced bluntly. “It operates quite easily.”
Since there was no question there could be no reply. It was considered worse than bad form for a junior to contradict a senior officer’s statement. Kenneth remained silent.