"Thank you. That is decidedly more agreeable," said Tristram,
stretching his stiffened limbs.
"You were suffering before I came?"
"Why, truly," Tristram replied, shrugging his shoulders as he glanced
around; "I find military life duller than I expected. And since this
is the first night I have spent from home--"
"My poor boy! Doubtless, too, you were brooding on what would happen
to-morrow morning."
"Say rather on what happened this morning," corrected Tristram, his
thoughts reverting to Sophia.
"But surely the prospect of to-morrow's punishment--"
"Oh, will there be a punishment to-morrow?"
"Why, you kicked a sergeant from one end of his Majesty's ship to the
other! Did you imagine you could do that with impunity?"
"I assure you he deserved it."
"Nevertheless, you would have been flogged on deck to-morrow had I
not come with a pardon."
"You astonish me: and really you have been very kind to me.
Still, it would have been quite unjust."
Captain Salt regarded his son quietly for a moment or two. In truth
he was somewhat staggered by this simplicity.
"You wish to escape from this service?" he asked.
"I dislike it more and more. Besides--"
"Tell me your desires; for, believe me, my son, I have no dearer wish
than to further them.
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