“Returned for duty, sir!” reported the midshipman to the officer-of-the-watch.
“And about time, too, my young festive,” rejoined the latter. “Commander wishes to see you at once.”
XII
Midshipman Kenneth Raxworthy’s interview with the Bloke was of a very different nature to that of his previous one. That had lasted only a few minutes; this more than an hour.
In fact it was barely an interview. It was more like a narrative. The commander listened intently, occasionally drumming his finger tips upon the top of his pedestal desk—a favourable sign, as more than one midshipman had cause to know.
Then, as evidence, Kenneth produced the broken link of the steering chains.
The commander examined the fracture, and then placed the link on the table without comment.
“Carry on, please!”
Kenneth did so until the end of his narrative, omitting no essential detail.
“Well, Mr. Raxworthy,” said the Bloke at the conclusion of the story, “your capture of the schooner is a feather in our cap. Undoubtedly the Marie Lescaut is the smuggling vessel that has been giving so much trouble, and you have laid her by the heels very neatly. It will be at least a fortnight before the prize court will deal with her. I have a recollection that I jammed your Christmas leave. That was an error on my part. I’m sorry. How about ten days’ leave from to-morrow?”