CHAPTER FORTY TWO.
CONVALESCENCE.
"Hallo, old mole!"
"I'm going to give you a thoroughly good licking, Bob, as soon as I getwell," said Mark, a few mornings later, on being saluted as above.
"I should like to see you do it."
"You shall, my dear young friend. Last night it was rat; night beforeowl; now it's mole."
"Well, so you are a jolly old mole. Regular night bird."
"Didn't know a mole was a night bird."
"Boo! clever. He's getting well, is he? You're always sneaking aboutin the dark. Why, if I'd been wounded I should be proud of my scars."
"Should you?" said Mark, passing his hand over his bald head andscorched eyebrows. "Well, I'm not, and I shan't care about showingmyself till my hair's grown."
"Look here, I'll get the armourer to make you a wig out of some oakum."
"Bob Howlett, I'm strong enough to lick you now," said Mark, grippingthe boy's thin arm, "so just hold your tongue. Now tell me how's poorMr Russell?"
"Coming round fast. Whitney goes about rubbing his hands when he thinksno one is looking. He's as proud as a peacock with ten tails because heoperated on Russell's head and lifted up something, and now the poorfellow's going on jolly. I like Russell."
"So do I. He's a true gentleman."
"And I shall make him take me next row there is on. He's sure to bewounded or something, he's such an unlucky beggar, and then I shouldhave to be in command."
Mark burst out laughing.
"Now don't be sneering and jealous," cried Bob. "Think nobody else cancapture slavers but you? Nasty slice of luck, that's all it was. Yah!I'm sick of it."
"Of what?"
"Hearing the fellows puffing and blowing you up. You'll go pop like asoap bubble one of these days."
Mark laughed good-humouredly.
"Anyone would think you had done wonders, and were going to be promotedto admiral instead of being only a middy who has to pass his examinationyears hence, and then going to be plucked for a muff, for I know morenavigation than you do. Look here, Guy Fawkes: when the sun is in rightdeclination forty-four degrees south, how would you find the square rootof the nadir?"
"Put your head a little nearer, Bob; I can't hit out quite so far."
"Hit--hit me? Why, you bald-headed, smooth-faced--No, I won't jump onyou now you're down. I'll be bagdadibous, as the chap with a cold inhis head said through his nose. Favourite of fortune, I forgive you."
"Thankye."
"Because I shall get my whack of the prize-money same as you, old chap."
"Ah, how are all the slaves?"
"Nice and clean. They've all been white-washed."
"Get out."
"Well, I mean the holds, and they eat and drink and lie about in the sunbasking like black tom-cats with their wives and kittens. I wish theywouldn't be so jolly fond of lying down on the deck like door-mats, andasking you to wipe your shoes on 'em."
"They don't."
"No, poor beggars, but they're so delighted that they're just like petdogs. Seem as if they couldn't make enough of you."
"Got any news, Bob?"
"No. Leastwise, not much," said Bob, taking out his knife andsharpening it on his boot, which was a sign that he was going to cut hisinitials somewhere, to the great detriment of her Majesty's ship'sfittings and boats.
"It's rather dull down here sometimes."
"Then why don't you come on deck?"
"I'd--I'd rather wait a bit," said Mark, sadly.
"Perhaps it would be best. You do look such a rum 'un. I know.Capital idea. I'll ask the ship's tailor to make you a Turkish costume,white. Your bare head would look all right then. What'll you have--afez or a turban? Say fez; your complexion would look well with thescarlet."
Bob joked, Mark read, and trusted to his friend for reports, andmeanwhile the two schooners sailed on with their prize crews in the wakeof the _Nautilus_. In due time Port Goldby was reached, and the freedslaves disembarked, all chattering and happy as so many girls and boys.
There had been times when Mark missed the excitement of his adventures,and agreed with Bob that it was hot and tame; but his burns rapidlyhealed, and he received visits from the men who had shared his troubles,and after dark stole unseen to Mr Russell's quarters, to sit in hiscabin and talk to him gently about all the past.
"You'll have all the work to do next time, Mr Russell," Mark used tosay. "Some day I shall be the one down, but I hope I shall be with youwhen you command some other expedition."
"I hope you will be with me," said the lieutenant, feebly; "but not beso unlucky as I have been. But there: never mind past troubles. I'mgetting stronger, thanks to Mr Whitney. All that time I passedinsensible is to me like a long night's rest. Mark, my lad, I hope weshall have many adventures together yet; but whether we do or no, thoughI am much older than you are, remember one thing: you and I must alwaysbe good friends, and some day, if ever I command a ship, I hope you willbe my lieutenant."
"Ah," said Mark, "that's a long way off, but I hope I may."
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