Читать книгу The Captain from Connecticut онлайн
70 страница из 86
Truxtun in the Constellation had drilled his young officers in the manners expected of them, and Peabody's graces dated from that time. The British captain touched his hat in the new manner of the British service.
"Perhaps you would be so good as to come below with me, sir?" asked Peabody.
Down below they were just replacing the bulkheads of the main cabin; they had a glimpse of the long gun deck where, in the dim light of the lanterns, the men were securing their guns again. Washington, the negro servant, was trying to set the cabin to rights, bustling about with chairs, lighting the big cabin lamp, putting cushions on the lockers. He was flustered by the fact that his master was receiving company in a cabin which had been cleared for action. The British captain sat down in the chair which Washington dragged forward for him, while Peabody took his seat on the starboard-side locker.
"What was your ship, sir?" asked Peabody. He knew how bitter the use of that word 'was' would be for his prisoner but there was no way round the difficulty.