Medea, what nonsense you are talking,” replied Mr. Culpepper.
“Medea’s right,” croaked Mrs. Culpepper; “all moonshine.”
“So you need not be so very particular, papa, I can tell you,” rejoined Miss Medea, who then whispered in her father’s ear, loud enough for me to hear, “No such thing, nothing but a regular marine.”
“Pooh, nonsense,” replied the purser, in a low voice; “the boy has been taught to say it—he’s too clever for you, Medea.”
At this very true remark of her father’s, Miss Medea swelled into a towering passion, her whole face, neck, and shoulders—for she wore a low gown in the morning—turning to a fiery scarlet. I never saw such a fury as she appeared to be. She rushed by me so roughly, that I was thrown back a couple of paces, and then she bounced out of the room.
“Medea knows how to put that and that together, Mr. Culpepper,” croaked out Mrs. Culpepper.
“Medea’s wise in her own conceit, and you’re a regular old fool,” rejoined Mr. Culpepper, with asperity; “one too knowing and the other not half knowing enough. Master Keene, I hope you are hungry, for we have a very nice dinner. Do you like ducks and green peas?”
“Yes, sir, very much,” replied I.
“Were you born at Chatham, Master Keene?”
“No, sir, I was born at the Hall, near Southampton. My mother was brought up by old Mrs. Delmar, the captain’s aunt.”
I gave this intelligence on purpose; as I knew it would puzzle Miss Medea, who had just returned from the kitchen.
Mr. Culpepper nodded his head triumphantly to his daughter and wife, who both appeared dumb-founded at this new light thrown upon the affair.
Miss Medea paused a moment and then said to me—“I wish to ask you one question, Master Keene.”
“I will not answer any more of your questions, miss,” replied I; “You have been questioning me all the morning, and just now, you were so rude as nearly to push me down. If you want to know anything more, ask Captain Delmar; or, if you wish it, I will ask Captain Delmar whether I am to answer you, and if he says I am, I will, but not without.”
This was a decided blow on my part; mother and Medea both looked frightened, and Mr. Culpepper was more alarmed than either of the females. It proved to them that I knew what they were inquiring for, which was to them also proof that I also knew who I was; and further, my reference to Captain Delmar satisfied them that I felt sure of his support, and they knew that he would be very much irritated if I told him on what score they had been pumping me.
“You are very right, Master Keene,” said Mr. Culpepper, turning very red, “to refuse to answer any questions you don’t like; and, Medea, I’m surprised at your behaviour; I insist upon it you do not annoy Master Keene with any more of your impertinent curiosity.”
“No, no,” croaked the old lady; “hold your tongue, Medea, hold your tongue.”
Miss Medea, who looked as if she could tear my eyes out if she dared, swallowed down her rage as well as she could. She was mortified at finding she had made a mistake, annoyed at my answering her so boldly, and frightened at her father’s anger; for the old gentleman was very apt to vent it in the argumentum ad feminam, and box her ears soundly.
Fortunately dinner was served just at this moment, and this gave a turn to the conversation, and also to their thoughts. Mr. Culpepper was all attention, and Miss Medea, gradually recovering her temper, also became affable and condescending.
The evening passed away very agreeably; but I went to bed early, as I wished to be left to my own reflections, and it was not till daylight that I could compose my troubled mind so as to fall asleep.
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