The new arrangement was quite to my liking. The whole schooner had been overhauled; six berths had been made astern, out of what had been the after-part of the main hold, and this set of cabins was only joined to the galley and forecastle by a sparred passage on the port side.
It had been originally meant that the captain, Mr. Arrow, Hunter, Joyce, the doctor, and the squire were to occupy these six berths. Now Redruth and I were to get two of them, and Mr. Arrow and the captain were to sleep on deck in the companion, which had been enlarged on each side till you might almost have called it a roundhouse.
Very low it was still, of course, but there was room to swing two hammocks, and even the mate seemed pleased with the arrangement. Even he, perhaps, had been doubtful as to the crew, but that is only guess, for, as you shall hear, we had not long the benefit of his opinion.
We were all hard at work changing the powder and the berths, when the last man or two, and Long John along with them, came off in a shore-boat.
The cook came up the side like a monkey for cleverness, and, as soon as he saw what was doing, “So ho, mates!” said he, “what’s this!”
“We’re a-changing the powder, Jack,” answers one.
“Why, by the powers,” cried Long John, “if we do, we’ll miss the morning tide!”
“My orders!” said the captain, shortly. “You may go below, my man. Hands will want supper.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” answered the cook; and, touching his forelock, he disappeared at once in the direction of his galley.
“That’s a good man, captain,” said the doctor.