He can do as he likes, though." And he began to dip his sculls again in the water.
"No," said I, "I want to come in your boat, Tempest." "Come along, then;" and he backed his stern up towards me.
Crofter made no further protest; but greeted my desertion with a mellifluous laugh, which made me more uncomfortable than a storm of objurgations.
Tempest said nothing, but dug his blades viciously in the water, and spun away with grim face and clenched teeth.
For a quarter of a mile he sculled on before he lay on his oars and exclaimed,-- "You young fool!" "Why," pleaded I, "I didn't think you'd mind.

He's been friendly enough to you lately." "Bah! What do I care what he is to me?
I told you to fight shy of the fellow, and there you go and give yourself away to him." I did not quite like this.

Tempest spoke to me as if I had not a soul of my own, and had no right to do anything without his leave.
"He was speaking quite kindly about you," persisted I.
Tempest checked the contemptuous exclamation which came to his lips, and said, more earnestly than I had heard him yet,-- "Look here, Jones; that fellow's a cad; and he'll make a cad of you, if you let him.

Don't believe a word he says to you, unless he calls you a fool." "I hope what he's been saying to-day will turn out to be Lies," said I oracularly.
To my disappointment Tempest evinced no curiosity as to my meaning, and relapsed into gloomy silence for the rest of the voyage.
For the first time in my life I felt out of humour with my old Dux.

He had no right to treat me like a baby, or dictate to me whom I was to know and whom I was not to know in Low Heath.