Fred gazed presently in the same direction.
"Johnson is number one!" he said, as if checking off my mental processes.

He meant Hassan.

"Number two is Georges Coutlass, our friend the Greek.

Number three is--am I drunk this early in the day ?--what do you see ?--doesn't she look to you like ?--by the big blind god of men's mistakes it's--Monty! Didums, you deaf idiot, look! See!" At that everybody naturally looked the same way.

Everybody nodded.
Coutlass the Greek, and Hassan, reputed nephew of Tippoo Tib, were headed in one boat toward the steamer, the worse for the handling, but right side up and no angrier than the usual passenger.