It made for us at about a
couple of miles from the town, and came close up, flouncing and
bobbing in the very jaws of the paddle, which looked as if it would
have seized and twirled round that little boat and its light, and
destroyed them for ever and ever. All the passengers, of course,
came crowding to the ship's side to look at the bold little boat.
"I SAY!" howled a man; "I say! - a word! - I say! Pasagero!
Pasagero! Pasage-e-ero!" We were two hundred yards ahead by this
time.
"Go on," says the captain.
"You may stop if you like," says Lieutenant Bundy, exerting his
tremendous responsibility. It is evident that the lieutenant has a
soft heart, and felt for the poor devil in the boat who was howling
so piteously "Pasagero!"
But the captain was resolute. His duty was NOT to take the man up.
He was evidently an irregular customer - someone trying to escape,
possibly.
The lieutenant turned away, but did not make any further hints.
The captain was right; but we all felt somehow disappointed, and
looked back wistfully at the little boat, jumping up and down far
astern now; the poor little light shining in vain, and the poor
wretch within screaming out in the most heartrending accents a last
faint desperate "I say!
