Impelled by the occasion and the charm of the night he waxed
sentimental, and with a strange mixture of bluffness and shyness spoke of
his aged mother, of the loneliness of a seafarer's life, and the
inestimable boon of real friendship. He bared his inmost soul to his
sympathetic listener, and then, affecting to think from a remark of Mr.
Chalk's that he was going to relate the secret of the voyage, declined to
hear it on the ground that he was only a rough sailorman and not to be
trusted. Mr. Chalk, contesting this hotly, convinced him at last that he
was in error, and then found that, bewildered by the argument, the
captain had consented to be informed of a secret which he had not
intended to impart.
"But, mind," said Brisket, holding up a warning finger, "I'm not going
to tell Peter Duckett. There's no need for him to know."
Mr. Chalk said "Certainly not," and, seeing no way for escape, led the
reluctant man as far from the helmsman as possible and whispered the
information. By the time they parted for the night Captain Brisket knew
as much as the members of the expedition themselves, and, with a rare
thoughtfulness, quieted Mr. Chalk's conscience by telling him that he had
practically guessed the whole affair from the beginning.
Pages:
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241