‘Smallridge and I were very good friends. He’d been a sailor in the ship I was afterwards midshipman in.’
‘Oh, indeed,’ cried he. ‘And so you was at sea, sir?’
I was about to reply, designing to lead him on into answering certain questions I had in my mind concerning the captain and crew of the barque, when Mr. Lush came up the poop ladder; so, knowing the etiquette, I hauled off, but with the full intention of sounding Mr. Joe Weatherly at large when an opportunity should offer.
CHAPTER XXV
I KEEP A LOOKOUT
I slipped half-way down the little companion ladder to take a peep at Miss Temple, and on observing her to be resting quietly, I returned, and after lighting my pipe anew, stepped over to Mr. Lush, who was employed in cutting off a piece of tobacco from a black cake to serve him as a quid.
‘It is not often hereabouts,’ said I, by way of starting a conversation, ‘that one has a sky like that all day long overhanging one’s mastheads.’
‘No,’ said he; ‘but it’s better than the roasting sun;’ and he opened his lame mouth to receive the cube of tobacco into the hollow of his cheek, whilst he eyed the sky askant, as though in recognition of it as a subject of talk.
‘Did you fall in with the smother that ended in the lady and I being stranded aboard the wreck?’ I inquired.