"
Dan Tugwell came slowly, and with a heavy step, looking quite unlike the
spruce young fisherman whom Scudamore had noticed as first and smartest
in the rescue of the stranded Blonde. But he could not doubt that this
was Dan, the Dan of happier times and thoughts; in whom, without using
his mind about it, he had felt some likeness to himself. It was not in
his power to glance sharply, because his eyes were kindly open to all
the little incidents of mankind, but he managed to let Dan know that
duty compelled him to be particular. Dan Tugwell touched the slouched
hat upon his head, and stood waiting to know what he was wanted for.
"Daniel," said Scudamore, who could not speak condescendingly to any
one, even from the official point of view, because he felt that every
honest man was his equal, "are you here of your own accord, as one of
the crew of this schooner?"
Dan Tugwell had a hazy sense of being put upon an untrue balance. Not
by this kind gentleman's words, but through his own proceedings. In his
honest mind he longed to say: "I fear I have been bamboozled. I
have cast my lot in with these fellows through passion, and in hasty
ignorance. How I should like to go with you, and fight the French,
instead of getting mixed up with a lot of things I can't make out!"
But his equally honest heart said to him: "You have been well treated.
You are well paid. You shipped of your own accord. You have no right to
peach, even if you had anything to peach of; and all you have seen is
some queer trading.
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