PART TWO: The Sea-cook
Chapter 9: Powder and Arms
(continued)
"My orders!" said the captain shortly. "You may go
below, my man. Hands will want supper."
"Aye, aye, sir," answered the cook, and touching his
forelock, he disappeared at once in the direction of
his galley.
"That's a good man, captain," said the doctor.
"Very likely, sir," replied Captain Smollett. "Easy
with that, men--easy," he ran on, to the fellows who
were shifting the powder; and then suddenly observing
me examining the swivel we carried amidships, a long
brass nine, "Here you, ship's boy," he cried, "out o'
that! Off with you to the cook and get some work."
And then as I was hurrying off I heard him say, quite loudly,
to the doctor, "I'll have no favourites on my ship."
I assure you I was quite of the squire's way of
thinking, and hated the captain deeply.
|