"
"You must not keep him any longer now, Nellie; he has other
appointments to keep, and when he has done that, to go and pack up
his things and see that they are brought here by a porter. He can
answer some more of your questions when he comes here this evening."
Cyril returned to Holborn with a lighter heart than he had felt for a
long time. His preparations for the move took him but a short time,
and two hours later he was installed in a little attic in the
ship-chandler's house. He spent half-an-hour in unpacking his things,
and then heard a stentorian shout from below,--
"Masthead, ahoy! Supper's waiting."
Supposing that this hail was intended for himself, he at once went
downstairs. The table was laid. Mistress Dowsett took her seat at the
head; her husband sat on one side of her, and Nellie on the other.
John Wilkes sat next to his master, and beyond him the elder of the
two apprentices. A seat was left between Nellie and the other
apprentice for Cyril.
"Now our crew is complete, John," Captain Dave said. "We have been
wanting a supercargo badly."
"Ay, ay, Captain Dave, there is no doubt we have been short-handed in
that respect; but things have been more ship-shape lately."
"That is so, John. I can make a shift to keep the vessel on her
course, but when it comes to writing up the log, and keeping the
reckoning, I make but a poor hand at it. It was getting to be as bad
as that voyage of the _Jane_ in the Levant, when the supercargo had
got himself stabbed at Lemnos.
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