Blue Jackets: The Log of the TeaserFenn, George Manville
General
Blue Jackets: The Log of the Teaser
Fenn, George Manville
Chinese -- Juvenile fiction; Sea stories
"Well, I think I do," he said, smiling. "Decidedly not. As Mr Reardon
would say, it would be totally subversive of discipline. It couldn't be
done. But one gentleman can of course apologise to another, and I do so
most heartily. My dear Mr Herrick, I beg your pardon for being so
unjust."
"Pray don't say any more about it, sir," I cried.
"Well, no, I will not. But all the same I am very sorry--as a
gentleman--that I--as your superior officer--spoke to you as I did."
"Thank you, sir."
"And, dear me, my lad, you look terribly hot and exhausted. Let me
prescribe, as Mr Price would say."
He quickly placed a lump of ice in a tumbler, and, after pouring in a
little sherry, filled it up with soda-water.
I grasped the glass, and drank with avidity the cool, refreshing draught
to the last drop.
"Humph! you were thirsty."
"I was choking, sir," I said, with a sigh, as I placed the glass upon
the table.
"And now, Mr Herrick, perhaps it would be as well not to talk about
this little interview," he said quietly. "I rely upon you as a
gentleman."
"Of course, sir," I replied; and feeling, in spite of the severe wigging
I had had, that I never liked the captain half so well before, I backed
out and hurried to my own cabin.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
WE LOSE OUR PRISONERS.
"Here he is," cried Barkins, who was resting his leg; while Smith was
sitting by the open window so as to catch all the air he could. "Got
your promotion?"
"Got my what?" I cried.
"Promotion. I never saw such favouritism. Always being sent for to the
skipper's cabin. I wonder Reardon stands it."
"Don't talk nonsense," I cried. "Phew, isn't it hot?"
"Yes, for us. Regular prisoners, while you have all the fun--"
"Of being roasted, and then stoned by the Chinese."
"That's right," said Smith sulkily, "make as little as you can of it.
Did the skipper consult you about our next movement?"
"He gave me a good bullying for not having the boat ready when he wanted
to come on board."
"Was that why you went in the cabin?" cried Barkins.
"Of course."
"Oh then, if that's the case, we'll let you off. Eh, Blacksmith?"
"Well, I suppose so."
"Let me off what?"
"We had been discussing the matter," said Barkins, "Smithy and I, and
come to the conclusion that as you were such a swell you were too good
for us, and we were going to expel you; but, under the circumstances, I
think we'll let you off this time. Oh!"
"What's the matter?"
"My leg! There's that horrible tingling and aching again. I'm sure
that knife was poisoned."
"Hi! look here," cried Smith just then; "here are two big row-boats
coming out to us."
We both made for the window, and there, in the bright sunshine, were two
large barges, gay with gilding and showy ensigns, coming pretty swiftly
in our direction, while, as they drew nearer, we could see that their
occupants were in brilliant costumes and fully-armed, swords and spears
flashing, and gold and silver embroidery lending their glow to the
general effect.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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