The senior partner rose, and taking a bottle from the cupboard filled out a stiff glass of rum. The sailor drank it off eagerly, and laid down the empty tumbler with a sigh of satisfaction.
"Say, now," he said, with an unpleasant confidential leer, "weren't you surprised to see us come back--eh? Straight now, between man and man?"
"The old ship hangs together well, and has lots of work in her yet," the merchant answered.
"Lots of work! God's truth, I thought she was gone in the bay! We'd a dirty night with a gale from the west-sou'-west, an' had been goin' by dead reckonin' for three days, so we weren't over and above sure o' ourselves. She wasn't much of a sea-going craft when we left England, but the sun had fried all the pitch out o' her seams, and you might ha' put your finger through some of them. Two days an' a night we were at the pumps, for she leaked like a sieve. We lost the fore topsail, blown clean out o' the ringbolts. I never thought to see Lunnon again."
"If she could weather a gale like that she could make another voyage."
"She could start on another," the sailor said gloomily, "but as like as not she'd never see the end o't."
"Come, come, you're not quite yourself this morning, Miggs. We value you as a dashing, fearless fellow--let me fill your glass again--who doesn't fear a little risk where there's something to be gained. You'll lose your good name if you go on like that."
"She's in a terrible bad way," the captain insisted. "You'll have to do something before she can go."
"What shall we have to do?"
"Dry dock her and give her a thorough overhaul. She might sink before she got out o' the Channel if she went as she is just now."
"Very well," the merchant said coldly. "If you insist on it, it must be done. But, of course, it would make a great difference in your salary."
"Eh?"
"You are at present getting fifteen pounds a month, and five per cent. commission. These are exceptional terms in consideration of any risk that you may run. We shall dry dock the Black Eagle, and your salary is now ten pounds a month and two and a half commission."
"Belay, there, belay!" the sailor shouted. His coppery face was a shade darker than usual, and his bilious eyes had a venomous gleam in them. "Don't you beat me down, curse you!" he hissed, advancing to the table and leaning his hands upon it while he pushed his angry face forward until it was within a foot of that of the merchant. "Don't you try that game on, mate, for I am a free-born British seaman, and I am under the thumb of no man."