- end_line
- 8315
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:36.274Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 8263
- text
- on his chapeau glittering in the flooding sunset. Attracted by the
scene between Captain Claret and so well-known and admired a commoner
as Jack Chase he approached, and assuming for the moment an air of
pleasant condescension—never shown to his noble barons the officers of
the ward-room—he said, with a smile, “Well, Jack, you and your
shipmates are after some favour, I suppose—a day’s liberty, is it not?”
Whether it was the horizontal setting sun, streaming along the deck,
that blinded Jack, or whether it was in sun-worshipping homage of the
mighty Commodore, there is no telling; but just at this juncture noble
Jack was standing reverentially holding his hat to his brow, like a man
with weak eyes.
“Valiant Commodore,” said he, at last, “this audience is indeed an
honour undeserved. I almost sink beneath it. Yes, valiant Commodore,
your sagacious mind has truly divined our object. Liberty, sir; liberty
is, indeed, our humble prayer. I trust your honourable wound, received
in glorious battle, valiant Comodore, pains you less today than
common.”
“Ah! cunning Jack!” cried the Commodore, by no means blind to the bold
sortie of his flattery, but not at all displeased with it. In more
respects than one, our Commodore’s wound was his weak side.
“I think we must give them liberty,” he added, turning to Captain
Claret; who thereupon, waving Jack further off, fell into confidential
discourse with his superior.
“Well, Jack, we will see about it,” at last cried the Commodore,
advancing. “I think we must let you go.”
“To your duty, captain of the main-top!” said the Captain, rather
stiffly. He wished to neutralise somewhat the effect of the Commodore’s
condescension. Besides, he had much rather the Commodore had been in
his cabin. His presence, for the time, affected his own supremacy in
his ship. But Jack was nowise cast down by the Captain’s coldness; he
felt safe enough; so he proceeded to offer his acknowledgments.
“‘Kind gentlemen,’” he sighed, “‘your pains are registered where every
day I turn the leaf to read,’—Macbeth, valiant Commodore and
Captain!—what the Thane says to the noble lords, Ross and Angus.”
And long and lingeringly bowing to the two noble officers, Jack backed
away from their presence, still shading his eyes with the broad rim of
his hat.
“Jack Chase for ever!” cried his shipmates, as he carried the grateful
news of liberty to them on the forecastle. “Who can talk to Commodores
like our matchless Jack!”
- title
- Chunk 2