‘Come a voyage with me, Miss Johnstone,’ said he, laughing.
‘Where to?’ said I.
‘I can’t tell you yet, but you shall hear.’
‘Let me hear and you shall have my answer.’
‘Do you know anything about the sea?’
‘Do I know anything about the sea?’ I echoed, with a loud, derisive laugh that caused everybody to look at me. ‘I wonder if you could ask me a question about the sea which I couldn’t answer? Shall I put you a ship about? Explain what reefing topsails means? Shall I wear ship for you? Shall I snug you down a full-rigged ship, beginning with the fore-royal-studding-sail?’ And so I went on.
He laughed continuously while I talked. The others were now listening and laughing too.
Just then my cousin, Will Johnstone, came in, and I broke off my chat with Captain Butler to greet the lad. Will was at this time between fifteen and sixteen years of age. He was a manly-looking boy, easy and gentlemanly, fitter for the midshipman’s quarters of a man-of-war than an apprentice’s berth on board a merchantman. He had a look of my father, and I loved him for that. He was dressed in sea-going clothes, and though he had never been farther than Ramsgate in all his life, he carried his new calling so prettily, there was such a pleasantly-acted swing in his gait, you would have believed him fresh from a voyage round the world. He came to me eagerly when he had shaken hands with the others, took Captain Butler’s chair, and told me with a glowing face about his ship, the Childe Harold—what a fine ship she was, how like a frigate she sat upon the water, how that a fellow had told him she could easily reel out twelve upon a bowline.
‘She lies in the East India Docks. You must come and see her, Marian. When will you come? To-morrow—say to-morrow.’ Here he saw Captain Butler looking our way. ‘Will you come, too, sir? Will you come with my cousin?’
‘Come where?’ said Captain Butler.