“I cannot help hoping that the frigate and corvette have been sent to sea; if not, Higson will have pretty soon to give up his command, and we three, degraded from our rank, shall be ignominiously sent back into the midshipman’s berth,” said Tom, with a laughable grimace.
“Then the sooner we make up our minds to sink into insignificance the better,” observed Desmond, who had a telescope to his eye. “I make out clearly enough the frigate and corvette at anchor; however, we shall have a jolly time of it giving the other fellows an account of our adventures. I vote that we make old Scrofton believe that ‘Master Spider’ played a gallant part in the capture of the Carthagenan fleet, and led the boarders when we took the corvette.”
“But we didn’t board at all, in the first place,” said Tom, “so that won’t be true to begin with.”
“No, but when one’s about spinning a yarn it’s as well to spin a good one,” answered Desmond.
“To my mind a joke’s a joke, and a lie’s a lie,” observed Tom. “Although it would be very good fun to quiz old Scrofton, we certainly should not tell him what is not the truth, and I won’t vote for anything of the sort.”
“Nor will I,” observed Gordon, “and after all the adventures we have been preserved from, it’s time that we should knock off our midshipmen’s tricks. Where should we have been if my cousin Murray hadn’t come in at the moment he did, and so bravely captured the fleet? We should to a certainty have been shot, as was the poor colonel.”
“Hush!” said Tom, pointing to Miss O’Regan, “she may hear us.” Paddy Desmond looked rather vexed. “I don’t consider humbugging an old bo’sun telling a lie, as you choose to call it,” he said, turning away.
“Truth is truth, Paddy, though,” answered Tom; “I didn’t mean to offend you, and I dare say we shall get a rise out of old Scrofton without descending to falsehood.” Paddy’s anger was as usual quickly appeased, and he joined in the hearty laughter which “Master Spider” produced, as at that moment he came hopping aft rigged in a white shirt with blue turn-down collar, white trousers, a straw hat secured to the top of his head, and a wooden cutlass made fast to one of his paws, and which, in his efforts to free himself from it, he appeared to be flourishing about as if engaged in mortal combat.
“There!” exclaimed Paddy, “if he didn’t board the Dons he shows that he would have done so if we had run them alongside, and he would precious soon have driven them overboard.”
Even Stella could not help indulging in a smile such as had not for a long time lighted up her countenance, while Polly clapped her hands, and shrieked with laughter.