Dicky suggested that we should see how fast we could sail and try and overhaul them, and we were getting on finely, gaining every minute, though we could see them doing their best to go faster; but presently Ah Chee, who had borrowed my telescope, made us slow down, shaking his head, "Plenty bad joss can do—if too plenty quick go—him Chinaman," and he pretended to dive overboard. Dicky understood what he meant first—that the Chinaman would think us pirates, and would jump overboard if we overhauled them, so we lowered our foresail, just to comfort them, and eased down.
We had to keep under way that night, because the next lot of little islands which we had to examine were about nine miles away, and the breeze had fallen considerably. I slept jolly soundly till midnight—I rolled myself in my blanket and slept on deck, to escape the bugs under the poop—and then relieved Dicky for the middle watch.
It was jolly cold, but the stars peeped out every now and again, and it was just light enough to see rocks or land a hundred yards ahead, so there was very little danger of our running ashore.
It was the first night I had spent at sea under sail since the Upton Overy days, and this made me think a lot of the old village, and to wonder what they were doing at home. It was so jolly to know, after all the time—the years, in fact—that I’d been longing to come to sea with the Captain, that I was now doing quite an important job for him, and that I might be lucky enough to help him, and even be able to find Mr. Travers and Sally Hobbs and her father. It was grand, and I did so enjoy myself that night, with, everyone, except myself and the men at the helm and a lookout man for’ard, sound asleep.
I had only the foresail and mizzen set, because there was no reason for going fast, and I was rather nervous about squalls. You couldn’t see them coming at night—at any rate I couldn’t, because I’d had so jolly little experience.
I stood up alone on the poop, near the Maxim gun, and kept my eye on the sails and the long, narrow deck below me, and I don’t know whether you will understand what I mean, but I felt frightfully proud and conceited. I’d felt like that ever since we left the _Ringdove_, but I’d done my best not to let it ooze out, for fear that Dicky and the men should think me an ass, or too cocky, and now it seemed to swell up from my boots, and gave me an awfully funny feeling all over.