Nor did Beauty let the opportunity slip. But
the mate said nothing in reply, only foaming at the mouth and
struggling to rise.
Just then a thin tremor of a voice was heard from above. It was the
captain; who, happening to ascend to the quarter-deck at the
commencement of the scuffle, would gladly have returned to the cabin,
but was prevented by the fear of ridicule. As the din increased, and
it became evident that his officer was in serious trouble, he thought
it would never do to stand leaning over the bulwarks, so he made his
appearance on the forecastle, resolved, as his best policy, to treat
the matter lightly.
"Why, why," he begun, speaking pettishly, and very fast, "what's all
this about? - Mr. Jermin, Mr. Jermin - carpenter, carpenter; what are
you doing down there? Come on deck; come on deck."
Whereupon Doctor Long Ghost cries out in a squeak, "Ah! Miss Guy, is
that you? Now, my dear, go right home, or you'll get hurt."
"Pooh, pooh! you, sir, whoever you are, I was not speaking to you;
none of your nonsense. Mr. Jermin, I was talking to you; have the
kindness to come on deck, sir; I want to see you."
"And how, in the devil's name, am I to get there?" cried the mate,
furiously.
