Part 17 (1/2)
I could not help smiling at the absurdity of my idea, for I recalled that I had never seen a cold codfish laughing.
I had no more time for musing then, for I received a sharp slap on the back from Barkins.
”Never mind, Gnat; we all get it some time.”
I saw that Smith was hurrying up, for I caught sight of him by the light of one of the swinging lanterns, and had to be on my guard.
I did not want to deceive my messmates nor to be untruthful, but I could not open my heart to them and tell them all that had pa.s.sed.
”What cheer, messmet?” whispered Smith. ”Had a wigging?”
I nodded my head sulkily.
”What had you been up to? Skipper had you into the cabin, didn't he?”
”Let him alone, will you,” cried Barkins. ”What do you want to worry the poor chap for? The skipper's had him over the coals.”
”Well, I know that, Bark. But what for?”
”What's that to you? Let him alone.”
”But he might tell.”
”Well, he isn't going to tell. If you must know, the Grand Panjandrum came and catched him talking to Squeezums, hanging over the bulwarks together.”
”Talking to who?”
”Well then, to Teapot, old Chinese Ching, and snubbed him for having the Yellow-skin so far aft. Didn't he, Gnat?”
”Yes,” I said, quite truthfully.
”Then I say it's too bad,” cried Smith. ”As the sn.o.b speakers say, are we--er--serlaves? Besides, 'a man's a man for a' that,' ain't he, Tanner?”
”Chinamen have no business abaft the funnel,” said Barkins. ”Did he give it to you very warmly, Gnat?”
”Pretty well,” I said, glad to escape Smith's examination. ”I wasn't sorry to get out of the cabin.”
”No, I should think not. Why, what's come to the old boy--taking to bully us himself? I thought he always meant to leave that to Dishy.”
”He's getting wild at not catching the pirates, I suppose,” said Barkins. ”Then all that badger gets bottled up in him, and he lets it off at us. Well, I don't see any fun in watching the fire; I'm going down for a snooze.”
”Wish I could,” said Smith. ”The fellow who invented night-watches ought to have been smothered. I daresay he was a man who had something the matter with him and couldn't sleep. I hate it.”
”Pooh!” cried Barkins, laughing. ”You haven't got used to it yet, old chap. It's an acquired taste. After a bit you won't care a dump for a regular night's rest, but'll want to get up and take your turn. Won't he, Gnat?”
I laughed.
”I haven't got the right taste yet,” I said.
”And never will,” grumbled Smith, as we turned to have another look at the burning barque.