Blair had a very considerable sense of his own dignity, and was by no means pleased with this style of address.

Yet he showed his resentment by increased taciturnity rather than by words.

Captain Knox and Derry Duck soon found out that Blair Robertson was no useless addition to the crew, and promptly gave him his share in the watch and in other duties which his strength would permit.
The hours of the watch were to Blair the most agreeable he now enjoyed.
In the silent night, with the sea below and the sentinel stars overhead, he could commune with God, undisturbed by the wickedness of man.
Blair had not been a day on board the Molly, when Torpedo, a fiery young Spaniard, spied him reading his pocket-Testament in a quiet part of the ship.

The book was snatched away and flung triumphantly into the water, while Torpedo exclaimed in bad English that Blair should follow it if he tried to force any of his canting notions on the free crew of the privateer.

Well was it for Blair that his mind was stored with chapter after chapter of the precious volume, which would otherwise have been to him now a sealed book.