"I hate the captain!" she says again.
"My dear Miss Denison!" I begin; for she has always been severe upon
our bluff old man, and it is not the spirit of contrariety alone
which makes me invariably take his part. Coarse he may be, and not
one whom the owners would have chosen to command the Lady Jermyn; a
good seaman none the less, who brought us round the Horn in foul
weather without losing stitch or stick. I think of the ruddy ruffian
in his dripping oilskins, on deck day and night for our sakes, and
once more I must needs take his part; but Miss Denison stops me
before I can get out another word.
"I am not dear, and I'm not yours," she cries. "I'm only a
school-girl - you have all but told me so before to-day! If I were
a man - if I were you - I should tell Captain Harris what I thought
of him!"
"Why? What has he done now?"
"Now? You know how rude he was to poor Mr. Ready this very
afternoon!"
It was true. He had been very rude indeed. But Ready also had
been at fault. It may be that I was always inclined to take an
opposite view, but I felt bound to point this out, and at any cost.
"You mean when Ready asked him if we were out of our course? I
must say I thought it was a silly question to put. It was the same
the other evening about the cargo. If the skipper says we're in
ballast why not believe him? Why repeat steerage gossip, about
mysterious cargoes, at the cuddy table? Captains are always touchy
about that sort of thing. I wasn't surprised at his letting out."
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