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"Time to-morrow will you be ready to start?" he said.
"At your time," said Uncle Paul promptly.
"Say nine?" asked the captain.
"Certainly; nine o'clock to-morrow morning," replied Uncle Paul.
"Good. I will be off the landing-place at the Barbican with a boat.
Night, sir. Night, youngster. Natural history expedition, eh? And I thought you was going blackbirding! Haw, haw, haw!"
This last was intended for a derisive laugh at himself, but it sounded like three grunts, each louder than the last.
The next minute the skipper was outside, and his steps were heard growing distant upon the gravel path.
"Well, what do you think of our captain, eh, Rodd?"
"I think he's a rum 'un, uncle; but he isn't our captain yet."
"No, my boy, but if I have my way he will be, and if I hear that he's a skilful navigator, for I want no further recommendation. The way in which he, an old experienced hand, one who would be able to see at a glance how thoroughly I should be at his mercy if he were a trickster whose aim was to make as much money out of the transaction as he could, proved that he was as honest as the day and ready to lay himself open to every examination, that alone without his display of honest indignation when he suspected me of being about to engage in that abominable traffic--there, I want no more. As these sea-going people say, Pickle, Captain Chubb is going to hoist his flag on board my schooner, for as far as I can judge at present he seems to be the man in whom we shall be able to trust."
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
THROUGH THE STORM.
"It's enough to make a man say he'll throw up the whole affair," cried Uncle Paul, running his fingers in amongst his grizzly hair and giving it a savage tug.
"Uncle! Why, what's the matter now?"
"Yes, you may well say what's the matter now! Everything's the matter.
The worry's almost maddening."
"What, is there anything fresh, uncle?"
"There, don't you take any notice, boy. I get regularly out of heart.
There's always something wrong. It's as if we were never to be off.
All these weary, weary months gone slowly dragging on."
"Why, uncle, they seem to me to go like lightning," cried Rodd.
"Oh, yes, of course. You are a boy, with plenty of time before you. I am getting an old man, and with little time to spare to do all the work I want to. I seem to get not a bit farther."
"Why, you do, uncle. It's astonis.h.i.+ng what a lot we have done. Let's see; it's just fifteen months since you bought the schooner."
"Fifteen, boy? You mean fifty."
"Fifteen, uncle; and she was nothing like finished then."
"No, and as soon as the men knew that she was sold, I believe they made up their minds to spin the job out as long as they could."
"Oh, but, uncle, they did it all very beautifully; and see what a lot of alterations you had made."
"Had made, indeed! Wasn't I led on into having them done by that old scoundrel Chubb?"
"No, uncle. He always consulted with you first, and advised this and that so as to make the vessel better."
"Humph!" grunted Uncle Paul.
"Then see what a lot you had done, fitting up the work-room, and the bottles and tanks, and getting in the dredging apparatus. It does seem a long time to you, but see what a lot there was to do. You know you were never satisfied."
"I was, sir! Don't you get accusing me of such things, Rodney. You grow more impertinent every day. Now put a regular check upon yourself, sir. If you are like this as a boy I don't know what you are going to be when you grow to be a man."
"Well, uncle, I won't say another word about it."
"Ah! No sulking, sir! I command you to go on speaking at once."
"Very well, uncle; but you did say that you would have everything of the best, and that nothing should be left undone, to hinder the expedition from being successful."
"Did I say so, Rodd?"
"Why, yes, uncle, over and over again."
"Well, well, I did mean it. But I am getting quite out of heart. Every day it seems as if there is something fresh to throw us back. Now it's stores; now it's something else wants painting; now one of the crew wants a holiday, just at a time too when things are so nearly ready that I might want to start at any moment."
"Well, I shall be glad when we do get off now, uncle," said the boy thoughtfully.
"Then you had better give up thinking about it, boy. It looks to me like another six months before we can be ready."
"Oh no, uncle! Captain Chubb said to me yesterday that if I wanted to get anything else to take with me I must get it at once."
"Then don't you believe him, Rodd. He's a dilatory old impostor. I don't believe he means for me to go at all. By the way, did you have the men up and give them that big medicine chest?"
"Yes, uncle; the day before yesterday."
"Oh, and were those little casks of spirits got into the store-room?"
"Yes, uncle. I saw the men get them on board myself."
"That's right. But look here, Pickle; were you with them all the time?"
"Yes, uncle. You told me to be, before you went up to London."
"That's right, Rodd. But--er--did you--did you hear the men make any remark about them?"
"No, uncle; but I saw them smell the bung-holes and look at one another and laugh."
"Humph!" said the doctor, smiling. "By the way, I think I'll go on board now and have a look round. There are several things I want to see to, those casks and kegs among the rest."