We,
offerin' a broadside target, got it. He told us what 'is grandmamma, 'oo
was a lady an' went to sea in stick-and string-batteaus, had told him
about steam. He throwed in his own prayers for the 'ealth an' safety of
all steam-packets an' their officers. Then he give us several distinct
orders. The first few--I kept tally--was all about going to Hell; the next
many was about not evolutin' in his company, when there; an' the last all
was simply repeatin' the motions in quick time. Knowin' Frankie's groovin'
to be badly eroded by age and lack of attention, I didn't much panic; but
our Mr. Moorshed, 'e took it a little to heart. Me an' Mr. Hinchcliffe
consoled 'im as well as service conditions permits of, an' we had a
_resume_-supper at the back o' the Camber--secluded _an'_ lugubrious! Then
one thing leadin' up to another, an' our orders, except about anchorin'
where he's booked for, leavin' us a clear 'orizon, Number Two Six Seven is
now--mind the edge of the wharf--here!"
By mysterious doublings he had brought me out on to the edge of a narrow
strip of water crowded with coastwise shipping that runs far up into
Weymouth town. A large foreign timber-brig lay at my feet, and under the
round of her stern cowered, close to the wharf-edge, a slate-coloured,
unkempt, two-funnelled craft of a type--but I am no expert--between the
first-class torpedo-boat and the full-blooded destroyer.
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