His example was followed by the rest of the watch below, though the more sentimental of the officers continued gazing at it for some time longer. Adair wished that Lucy Rogers could enjoy it with him.
“I say, Archie, wouldn’t Mr Mildmay now be after writing a splendiferous sonnet if he was here?” whispered Desmond.
“Can’t you try your hand, Gerald?” said Archie.
“Not I; I’m no poet. I can make a very good line to begin with, but when I come to the second, I can never manage to fit the words in properly.”
“Just try now,” said Archie. Thus encouraged, Desmond at length exclaimed—
“‘The lightnings flashing o’er the boundless deep—’”
“Very good,” said Archie.
Gerald repeated the line several times. “‘Arouse the seamen from their “something” sleep,’” he added. “I’ll get Mr Mildmay to put in a proper word instead of ‘something,’ for it’s more than I can be after doing.”
“Hold your tongues, youngsters!” exclaimed Adair, whose thoughts had been far away till they were brought back by his nephew’s voice. “Turn in and get some sleep instead of chattering nonsense.”
The midshipmen, obeying, coiled themselves in the sternsheets, while Adair, who took the helm, sat indulging in a mood to which he had hitherto been a stranger.