Pints were thrust upon him, and the tale of his nobility increased with
much narration. It was considered that the whole race of stewards had
acquired fresh lustre from his action.
His only unfavourable critic was the erring captain himself. He sent
a peremptory summons to Mr. Wilks to attend at Equator Lodge, and the
moment he set eyes upon that piece of probity embarked upon such a
vilification of his personal defects and character as Mr. Wilks had never
even dreamt of. He wound up by ordering him to rejoin the ship
forthwith.
"Arsking your pardon, sir," said Mr. Wilks, with tender reproach, "but I
couldn't."
"Are you going to live on your mother, you hulking rascal?" quoth the
incensed captain.
"No, sir," said Mr. Wilks. "I've got a little money, sir; enough for my
few wants till we sail again."
"When I sail again you won't come with me," said the captain, grimly.
"I suppose you want an excuse for a soak ashore for six months!"
Mr. Wilks twiddled his cap in his hands and smiled weakly.
"I thought p'r'aps as you'd like me to come round and wait at table, and
help with the knives and boots and such-like," he said, softly.
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