"Alison Dale."
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen, nearly."
"I'm seventeen," he cried.
"And what's your name?"
"Nicholas Walters; and as I'm senior, you'll have to bustle about a bit.
I won't be too hard on you, but you'll have to look sharp and pick up
things. I dare say I can put you up to a good deal of seamanship."
"Thank you," I said quietly.
"Of course, I don't know what sort of officers we've got here; but you
and I can swing together, and I'll help to make it as easy for you as I
can. It's rather hard for a boy making his first voyage."
"I suppose so," I said; "but I shall try not to mind."
"Look here; is your father a gentleman?"
"Oh yes; he was in the army till he was invalided."
"Then he's an invalid?"
"No, no, not now. He was badly wounded in the Crimea, and had to retire
from the service."
"Then why didn't you go in the army? 'Fraid of getting wounded in the
Crimea?"
"No; I wanted to go to sea?"
"Then why didn't you go in the Royal Navy?"
"Because my father had a better opportunity for getting me in the
merchant service."
"Oh!"
I felt as if I should never like Mr Nicholas Walters, for he was rather
consequential in his way, and seemed disposed to lord it over me on the
strength of having made one voyage. But I consoled myself with the
thought that it was hard for any one to make himself agreeable on a day
like that; and then as we sat listening to the banging and thumping
about overhead, I began to think of my promise to my father, for I had
promised to make the best of things all through the voyage, and not be
easily damped.
My musings were cut short by my companion.
"I say," he cried, "you seem a lively sort of officer."
"One can't feel very lively just coming away from home amongst
strangers," I replied.
"Bosh! You're talking like a boarding-school girl. What do you think
of the skipper?"
"The captain? I haven't seen him yet."
"Yes, you have. That was he who let go at the men up aloft. He's a
rough 'un, and no mistake. Berriman--I don't think much of him nor of
the ship; I shall shift into another line after this trip. It isn't
good enough for me."
"I wonder whether I shall talk like that," I thought to myself, "when
I've been on a voyage." Then aloud: "Shall we go on deck for a bit, and
see if we can do anything?"
"Not likely," was the shortly uttered reply. "What's the good? Get wet
through in this mizzling rain. Let's wait for lunch. There'll be a
good one, because of the passengers' friends being on board. Some say
they'll go down to Gravesend with us. Here, you're all green yet; you
leave everything to me, and I'll tell you what to do."