“We’ll hope, father, that in this instance you are mistaken as to Colonel Armytage,” he answered, in a cheerful tone. “I am sure that you would like both his wife and daughter.”
“Ronald, my boy, you forget that I am a bo’sun,” said Rolf, rising from his seat. “Let us go on deck.”
They there met Glover, who welcomed Mr Morton with the greatest cordiality.
“I first went to sea with you, Mr Morton, you remember,” he observed. “You taught me more of seamanship than I ever learnt from anybody else. Besides, you know if it hadn’t been for your son I should long ago have been food for the fish.”
It was now time for Rolf to return on board the “Lion.” His son and Glover attended him down the side with as much attention as they would have paid to an admiral.
A number of the passengers were collected on the poop-deck, waiting for the boats to convey them up to Calcutta.
“Who is that man to whom Mr Morton and Mr Glover are paying so much attention?” asked Colonel Armytage, who happened just then to look up from his book.
No one could tell him. After he had seen his father off, Ronald joined the party on the poop. He certainly would not have gone, had Edda not been there. The feeling came forcibly on him that he ought to tell her about his father. It had never occurred to him before. As he was going up to address her, some ladies stopped him, and asked, “Who is that fine looking, officer-like man who just now left the ship!”
“He is my father,” said Ronald, firmly. Edda looked up at him with a surprised expression.
“Why, Mr Morton, if I mistake not, he wears the dress of a boatswain,” said Colonel Armytage, in a cool, deliberate manner.