‘See to yourself,’ said he, almost smiling. And as he spoke these words the head of Peter Green showed above the top of the ladder. The four islanders, accompanied by Mr. Bates, came on to the deck-house roof.
‘Vell, und how vhas you now, marm?’ said the Dutchman.
I answered that the fresh air had made me feel well again.
‘Und you, captain? Vhat vhas your hurry? Vhas you afraid of der vetter? Der vetter vhas all right.’
‘Had any rollers here lately, Mr. Green?’ said Tom, in his ordinary voice.
‘I think dere vhas no rollers,’ answered the Dutchman, ‘since six weeks.’
‘You’re in for a spell of quiet weather, captain,’ said old Cotton. ‘We’re obliged to you for a first-rate blow-out. Dunno how it is; there’s a sweetness in wittles at sea which my old teeth never can find in grub ashore.’
Hagan, who had stepped to the end of the deck-house to see if the whale-boat rode safely, now joined us and exclaimed: ‘If you’d care to go ashore, capt’n, I’ll remain in the brig in your place.’
‘No, I won’t go ashore; it isn’t as though I hadn’t visited your island. Perhaps you’ll bring Glass off to-morrow.’
‘Vhat vhas your name again, captain?’ said Green. ‘Dot I may tell der governor vhen he asks who vhas his old friend in der brig.’