To a lady of her
sensitive nature--"
"Oh, well, sir," I interrupted and, turning aside pettishly, began to
haul my cockboat down to the water, "since you choose to treat me
like a baby of six, I suppose it's no wonder you take Plinny for a
timorous old fool."
"Sir!" exploded Captain Branscome, and glancing back over my shoulder
I saw him leaning on his stick and fairly trembling with wrath.
"This disrespectful language! And of a lady for whom--for whom--"
"Disrespect?"--I whistled. "Is it worse to speak disrespect or to
act it? I have known Plinny for years--you for a month or two; and
one of these days, if this expedition gets into a mess--as it likely
will with such handling--that sensitive lady will make you see
stars."
I knew, while I uttered it, that my speech was abominably
ill-conditioned; that Captain Branscome had, in fact, been holding
out the olive-branch, and that in common decency I ought to have
caught at it. In short, I felt my boyish temper going from bad to
worse, and yet, somehow, that I could not apply the brake to it.
"Why, confound the boy!" ejaculated Mr. Rogers. "What ever bee has
stung him?" And gripping me by the shoulder as I heaved at the boat,
he swung me round to face him.
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