"A whaler she was," he continued, "but we have given her a rare cleaning. She's as sweet now as a nut. Double-skinned is she, and the bows all between the bends are solid teak, shod in front with iron. But you shall see her as soon as we haul out of dock."
"I'm taking two mates; both have passed and own certificates. You, Duncan, shall be acting third mate, and Conal I'll rate as auxiliary. You haven't neglected your studies, have you?"
"No, sir, and both myself and Conal mean to go in for our first exam, as soon as we get to London."
"Bravo! But I won't hinder you longer. Frank shall stay on with you a bit, and I expect you all to come and dine with me to-night at my hotel. Can you?"
"All but me," said Conal. This wasn't quite grammatical, but it was truth. "One of us must be ship-keeper."
"That's right. Never shirk your duty for anyone or anything. Do you remember the eulogy on Tom Bowling--when stark and stiff?"
And the pure and manly voice in which Talbot sang a verse of Dibdin's celebrated song, proved that, though this true sailor was over fifty, he was as hale and strong and hearty as many young fellows of twenty. Ay, and ten times more so, for at the present time thousands of lads ruin their health at schools--_and not from study either_.
"His form was of the manliest beauty; His heart was kind and soft; Faithful below he did his duty, And now he's gone aloft."
Talbot was going, and Duncan was seeing him across the gangway.
"Oh, by the by," he said, still retaining his old friend's hand, "I'm a perfect fool."
"No, no, Duncan; there are other folks' opinions to be taken on that subject."
"But I was actually going to let you away without even asking the name of your ship."
"And you'd never guess her name, but your dear wee tot of a sister christened her, and the barque's name is the _Flora M'Vayne_."
CHAPTER III.--BOUND FOR SOUTHERN SEAS OF ICE.
Frank and Duncan spent a very happy evening indeed with their friend Talbot.
Without the aid of wine either, which no one with youth on his side should require to make him gay. But I do not mind telling you that the old skipper himself had a drop of the "rosy" as he called it. And the "rosy" meant rum, aromatic, and of great age.