"You will just make straight, as
the tide and shoals allow, for our usual landing-place, set me ashore,
and follow me to the old quarters. I have orders to give you, which can
be given only there."
"My commanding officer shall be obeyed," the Frenchman answered, with a
light salute and smile, for he was not endowed with the power of hating,
or he might have indulged that bad power towards Carne; "but I fear that
he has not found things to his liking."
"What concern is that of yours? Your duty is to carry out my orders, to
the utmost of your ability, and offer opinion when asked for."
The light-hearted Frenchman shrugged his shoulders. "My commanding
officer is right," he said; "but the sea is getting up, and there will
be wind, unless I mistake the arising of the moon. My commanding officer
had better retire, until his commands are needed. He has been known
to feel the effects of high tossing, in spite of his unequalled
constitution. Is it not so, my commander? I ask with deference, and
anxiety."
Carne, who liked to have the joke on his side only, swore at the moon
and the wind, in clear English, which was shorter and more efficacious
than French. He longed to say, "Try to keep me out of rough water," but
his pride, and the fear of suggesting the opposite to this sailor who
loved a joke, kept him silent, and he withdrew to his little cuddy,
chewing a biscuit, to feed, if it must be so, the approaching malady.
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