Page:The Dark Frigate (Hawes).djvu/95

“Go then, Master Boatswain. But stay! You and your comerado make a strange pair. How came you bedfellows?”

“Why, sir, we met upon the road — ”

‘Yea, not at sea! Not at sea! Enough is said. Begone, Master Boatswain, begone!”

“How now,” cried Martin when Phil passed him on the deck. ‘‘Art thou called before the mast?" And he laughed till he shook.

“Nay, he hath made me his boatswain.”

“Thou?”

“Yea, comerado.”

“Thou? A mere gooseling? The master’s on the road to Bedlam! Why here am I — ” Martin’s red face flamed hot.

“Yea, he spoke of thee.”

"Ah!"

"Quoth he, thou art a fine fellow, but hot-tempered, Martin, and overbold.”

“Ah!” The crafty, sly look came upon Martin’s face and he puffed with pride; but Phil, delighting to see the jest take effect, laughed before his eyes, which sorely perplexed him.

“A fine fellow, but overbold,” Martin muttered, as he coiled the cable in neat fakes. ‘‘Yea, I did not believe he thought so well of me. From the glances he hath bestowed upon me, it was in my mind he was a narrow man, — ” Martin smiled and dallied over his work, — ‘‘one with no eye for a mariner of parts and skill. ‘A fine fellow, but overbold!’ Nay, that is fair speech and it seems he hath a very searching observation.”

Standing erect, Martin folded his arms and swelled