"Mr. Bosun," said Mrs. Poskett, insidiously, "I want to see the
Admiral."
Jim shook his head gloomily. "Ah! 'tis dirty weather he's makin' of it,
sure 'nough. He've a-locked hisself in by hisself if you'll believe me;
an' he's a-swearin' somethin' 'orrible for to 'ear!"
"Mr. Bosun," said Mrs. Poskett, holding up a beautiful, bright new
crown-piece between her finger and thumb, "would five shillings quench
your thirst?"
Jim wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Well, Lady, I can't say
but 'twould take the edge off it."
To his disgust, Mrs. Poskett retreated a step. "But I must see Sir
Peter."
Jim scratched his head--which was his way of expressing deep reflection.
He caught sight of the Admiral's flag hanging motionless. "I've got
it!" he cried. "Sheer off a cable's length, Lady."
Mrs. Poskett retired to the extreme end of the Walk. Jim made a
speaking-trumpet of both hands and bellowed, "Admiral, ahoy!"
The Admiral's window went up so suddenly, the Admiral's head shot out so
abruptly, and his voice was so fierce, that Mrs. Poskett could not
suppress a little scream.
"D'ye want to wake the dead?" roared the Admiral.
"Axing your pardon, Admiral--sunset."
"What of it, you lubber?" The Admiral was quite unaware of Mrs.
Poskett's presence, or I am sure he would not have used such an
expression.
"Shall I haul the flag down, Admiral?" asked Jim, with well-feigned
astonishment.
You may judge of what the Admiral had gone through from the fact that
this was the first time in recorded history he had neglected to perform
this ritual.
"On your life!" he cried, in great agitation. "I've hoisted it and
struck it with my own hands, morning and night, any time these five
years. D' ye think I'll have a lubberly son of a sea-cook like you do
it now?"
He vanished from his window as abruptly as he had appeared. Jim hobbled
towards Mrs. Poskett. "Got him, Lady!" he chuckled.