"If there's a friend o' your'n in the
gallery, you keep by me and point him out when the time comes.
I ain't a-makin' no promise, mind; no more than to say it may be the
better for him; but contrariwise I don't allow no messages, and you
may belay to that!"
"But my friend is not in the gallery. He has a reserved seat
somewhere."
"Then you may take it he don't _require_ no message, bein' toler'bly
safe. As for yourself, you stick to me. Understand? Whatever
happens, you stick to me."
The Major did not understand in the least; but their conversation at
this moment was interrupted by a roar of applause from all quarters
of the house as Tom Taffrail, with a realistic blow from the
shoulder, laid his persecutor prostrate on the deck.
"Brayvo!" grunted Bill Adams. "The lad's nimble enough with his
fives, I will say, for all his sea-lawyerin'."
"We must 'ave him, Bill; if I take him myself we must 'ave him!"
cried Ben Jope, dancing with admiration. '"Tis no more than a mercy,
neither, after the trouble he's been and laid up for hisself."
Into what precise degree of mental confusion Mr. Jope had worked
himself the Major could never afterwards determine; though he soon
had every opportunity to think it out at leisure.
For the moment, as a boatswain's whistle shrilled close behind his
ear, he was merely bewildered. He did not even know that the mouth
sounding it was Mr.
Pages:
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178