“Ye´ll just tell him your plain story like a plain man,” said the mate, “and leave the rest in the hands of the Almighty. I know ye´ll find it hard to shorten sail, but ´tis the only way ye´ll make the port after all.”
“I don´t understand the matter at all,” Gervase answered. “Here am I with a message to yon sluggard that should make his ears tingle for the duty he has neglected and the days he has wasted in useless waiting. One would think ´twas a favour I was begging at his hands. When His Majesty hears----”
“Tut, man, His Majesty--God bless him! will never come to know the rights of it. Just put your pride in your pocket and take as a favour--when ye get it--what should come to you by right. I don´t see myself that the thing is as easy as ye make it. A ship´s timbers are dainty enough, and yon boom´s an ugly sort of thing; not to speak of the cannon in the forts and the channel--that´s ticklish at the best of times.”
“When a kingdom´s at stake, one might run a little danger without being foolhardy.”
“I´m not saying that he mightn´t and I would willingly try it myself if I had the chance, but you must make allowances. I hear they had a parson aboard there the other day who gave them some plain speech and got a flea in his ear for his pains. Fair and softly will carry for many a mile. I´ll go with you myself and maybe put in a good word if I can. The boats are ready and we´ll be alongside in a twinkling.”
As they rowed towards the _Swallow_, which carried Kirke´s flag, Gervase´s mind was full of the way in which he should deliver his message, while Douglas sat beside him pouring his homely counsel into his ear. It was evident that the latter stood in no little dread of the commander who had won for himself an unenviable notoriety for cruelty and severity, and was clearly doubtful of the reception that awaited an envoy who knew so little regarding the character of the man with whom he had to deal. But Gervase had determined that if all else failed he would speak out his mind without any fear of the consequences. He had not undertaken this perilous journey and faced so many dangers to shrink from plain speech if that would serve his purpose.
The master of the _Phoenix_ on the news being brought that Kirke would receive them immediately in the gunroom, was like to have turned tail incontinently and left Gervase to face the redoubtable soldier alone. “The boatswain yonder is an old crony of mine,” he said, “and we don´t often have a chance of a quiet word. I wish you all luck, but I think I´ll step forward and have a bit of speech while you do your errand.”