“I’ll try and get you something as soon as the cook turns out; but he’s asleep in his bunk, and at this hour it would be a difficult job to find any. I’ll tell Mark, however, to ask him when he wakes, though I’d advise you to go off to sleep again.”
Saying this, Tom left the berth, and I once more closed my eyes. I was awakened by the men turning out.
The light streamed in at the door, showing me that it was morning. In consequence of the advice I received from Tom, I kept quiet and pretended to be asleep. Soon afterwards I saw Mark Riddle standing by my side.
“Tom told me you’re hungry, boy,” he said; “so I managed to get something for you from the pantry. I hope it won’t be discovered, or the third mate will be giving me a rope’s-ending.”
He had brought me a captain’s biscuit and a slice of ham, with a tin mug of water.
“I’ll bring you a cup of hot coffee,” he said, handing me the food.
Hungry as I was I could not help exclaiming, “What, don’t you know me, Mark?”
He looked at me very hard, still not remembering me.
“No, I don’t think I ever saw you before,” he answered; “but how do you happen to know my name?”
“I didn’t think I was so changed,” I said. “I’m Dick Cheveley.”