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It was clear that Captain Puffin had had a stroke of some sort, and had fallen forward into the soup which he had just poured out.... "But he didn't die of his stroke," said Evie in a strangled whisper. "He was drowned." "Drowned, dear?" said Miss Mapp. "Yes. Lungs were full of ox-tail, oh, dear me!
An overpowering knocking on her front-door caused her to stop cracking her egg. That imperious summons was succeeded by but a moment of silence, and then it began again. She heard the hurried step of Withers across the hall, and almost before she could have been supposed to reach the front door, Diva burst into the room. "Dead!" she said. "In his soup. Captain Puffin. Can't wait!"
Puffin had a happy inspiration, and, acting upon it, we slid a sheet under you, and, Rupert coming to our help, we dragged you up the last four steps by sheer force of arm." "I remember it," laughed Sylvia.
At which I usually swore. "Oh, you'll be all right soon. Don't mind my puffin' a bit? Eh?" He never tired of asking me to "have a hand at Nap. Good game. Makes you forget it, and that's half the battle." He would sit swaying with the rolling of the ship and suck at his pipe of blond tobacco and look with an inexpressibly sage but somnolent blue eye at the captain by the hour together.
Both gentlemen talked at once, very agreeably but rather carefully, Major Flint promising himself a studious evening over some very interesting entries in his Indian Diary, while Captain Puffin anticipated the speedy solution of that problem about the Roman road which had puzzled him so long.
His eyes, through a fringe of ha'r that has fallen over 'em, glows out like a cat's eyes in the dark. "We stands thar I still puffin my pipe, he with his lance raised an' we looks on each other I an' that paint-daubed buck! I can't say whatever is his notion of me, but on my side I never beholds a savage who appeals to me as a more evil an' forbiddin' picture!
"A man," said the Major impersonally, "makes an offensive remark, and says 'No offence. If your own fireside suits you better than mine, Captain Puffin, all I can say is that you're at liberty to enjoy it!" This was all rather irregular: they had indulged in a good stiff breeze this afternoon, and it was too early to ruffle the calm again. Puffin plucked and proffered an olive-branch.
Great numbers of gulls, boobies, puffin, fish-hawks, and solan-geese surround the ship, and the water is full of drifting medusae. Half an hour ago the fog began to lift, and at 11.40 the captain, who had been sweeping the horizon with a glass, shouted cheerily, "Land ho! Land ho! Hurrah!" and the cry was echoed simultaneously from stem to stern, and from the galley to the topgallant yard.
Padre dear, thank you for your sermon! And Major Benjy! Merry Christmas, Major Benjy. What a small company we are, but not the less Christmassy. No Mr. Wyse, no Susan, no Isabel. Oh, and no Captain Puffin. Not quite well again, Major Benjy? Tell me about him. Those dreadful fits of dizziness. So hard to understand." She beautifully succeeded in detaching the Major from the rest.
"Never mind!" answered the doctor, "I have a peculiar way of cooking that game, and if you recognise it for a sea bird I'll consent never to kill another in my life." "Do you know how to cook, then?" "A savant ought to know how to do a little of everything." "You'd better take care, Simpson," said the boatswain; "the doctor's a clever man, and he'll make you take this puffin for a grouse."
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