Then they call the First Lieutenant a pirate, and he, poor lamb, says that he was misled by the chuckle-headed understrapper who brought the stuff alongside. Words cannot express the First Lieutenant's contrition. It is too bad, too bad, but 'you know what asses these Dockyard chaps can be.'
With soft words and occasional gin and bitters he coaxes the visitors into their boat again, for he has studied diplomacy under West African Kings. They return to their own place, being young and guileless, and their reception is not cordial. Their Captain says openly that he has not one adequate thief in the ship, and that they had better go into the Church. They should have captured the understrapper early in the day. He will speak to the other Captain. And he does, like a brother, next time he meets him, galley passing galley, going to call on the Admiral.
'You infernal old pirate! What have you done with my paint?' cries the robbed one.
'Me, sar? Not me, sar. My brother Manuel, sar? That paint mafeesh. Done gone finish. Kerritch hogya.' This from the other potentate.
The coxswains duck their heads to hide a grin. And that is one of the ways they have in the Navy, (see Note I.)
The Early Bird departs with a reputation that would sink a slave-dhow, to try the same trick on Hong Kong or Bombay Yard.
