"Thank you, sir," he stammered; "I've no happetite. I'd rather not eat anything at present, sir. I'll take a ship's biscuit shortly, sir, with your leave."
Saying which, and with a ghastly face, he shuffled into the pantry, no doubt to escape from what he would consider highly murderous attentions.
"Rum customer, that steward, Mr. Royle," said the boatswain, rubbing his mouth on the back of his hand.
"So should I be had I undergone his sensations," I replied.
"Well, I don't know about that. You see there ain't nothing regular about a steward. He isn't a sailor and he isn't a landsman; and when you come to them kind o' mongrels, you can't expect much sperrit. It isn't fair to expect it. It's like fallin' foul of a marmozeet, because he isn't as big as a monkey. What about them passengers o' yours, sir? They've not been sarved with breakfast since I've been here?"
"I have seen to them," I answered. "What has Stevens been talking about?" As I said this I cast my eyes on the open skylight to see that our friend was not within hearing.
He shook his head, and after a short pause exclaimed—
"He's a bad 'un! he's a bad 'un! he's an out-and-outer!"
"Do you know which of them struck the captain down?"
"He did," he answered at once.