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“Come,” called, Jack, and Mister Midshipman Holley entered.
“Mister Henreid’s compliments, sir, and this just came through on the twix.” He handed a tablet to his skipper.
“Indeed,” said the skipper, reading the report. “Mister Greenstreet, it appears that we are in for a blow.” He glanced at the regulator: half a bell to go before the end of the watch. “Mister Veidt has the second dog, I believe,” he asked his sublieutenant.
“Yes, sir,”
“Mister Holley,” said Lieutenant O’Brian, and the boy took a more formal posture, “tell Mister Henreid to rig for heavy weather at four bells.”
“Yes, sir,” said the boy, receiving the tablet back. “Both watches will be on deck, do you see,” Jack added kindly, seeing the boy’s confusion. “Fifteen minutes will make no difference, we’ll still be ready and with time to spare before Mister Rains pipes ‘down hammocks’.”
The midshipman saluted and left. Mister Greenstreet, who had profited from the interruption by surreptitiously add some ice to his coffee, drained his mug and withdrew, leaving Jack alone.
A grin spread across his face as he returned to his now-cold meal. “I do love a blow,” he told the empty room.
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