‘No,’ I replied. ‘I was for two years at sea in an Indiaman as midshipman.’
He let fall my hand, and his face changed whilst he recoiled a step, meanwhile running his eyes from top to toe of me.
‘A midshipman?’ he exclaimed, with an accent of contempt. ‘Why, a midshipman ain’t a sailor! How long ago is it since you was a midshipman?’
‘Six years,’ I answered, completely bewildered by questioning of this sort at such a moment.
‘Six years!’ he cried, whilst his face grew longer still. ‘Why, then, I don’t suppose you’ll even know what a quadrant means?’
‘Certainly I know all about it,’ I answered, with a half-glance at Miss Temple, who stood beside me listening to these questions in a torment of surprise and suspense.
‘Are ye acquainted with navigation, then?’ inquired the captain.
‘Sufficiently well, I believe, to enable me to carry a ship to any part of the world,’ I rejoined, controlling my rising temper, though I was sensible that there was blood in my cheeks and that my eyes were expressing my mood.
‘Why, then, that’s all right!’ he cried, brightening up. ‘You tell me you could find your way about with a sextant?’
‘Yes, sir, I have told you so.’