Page 484 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

twenty tons which plied between Norfolk Island and Sydney,
as the Osprey had plied in the old days between Macquarie
Harbour and Hobart Town. ‘I am afraid that is rather stiff,
Blunt,’ said Frere. ‘That’s one of the best billets going, you
know. I doubt if I have enough interest to get it for you. Be-
sides,’ he added, eyeing the sailor critically, ‘you are getting
oldish for that sort of thing, ain’t you?’
Phineas Blunt stretched his arms wide, and opened his
mouth, full of sound white teeth. ‘I am good for twenty
years more yet, sir,’ he said. ‘My father was trading to the
Indies at seventy-five years of age. I’m hearty enough, thank
God; for, barring a drop of rum now and then, I’ve no vices
to speak of. However, I ain’t in a hurry, Captain, for a month
or so; only I thought I’d jog your memory a bit, d ye see.’
‘Oh, you’re not in a hurry; where are you going then?’
‘Well,’ said Blunt, shifting on his seat, uneasy under
Frere’s convict-disciplined eye, ‘I’ve got a job on hand.’
‘Glad of it, I’m sure. What sort of a job?’
‘A job of whaling,’ said Blunt, more uneasy than before.
‘Oh, that’s it, is it? Your old line of business. And who em-
ploys you now?’ There was no suspicion in the tone, and had
Blunt chosen to evade the question, he might have done so
without difficulty, but he replied as one who had anticipated
such questioning, and had been advised how to answer it.
‘Mrs. Purfoy.’
‘What!’ cried Frere, scarcely able to believe his ears.
‘She’s got a couple of ships now, Captain, and she made
me skipper of one of ‘em. We look for beshdellamare [beche-
de-la-mer], and take a turn at harpooning sometimes.’