"Yessir," he repeated. Truth be told, Harold hated rum. But it did the job, so he drank it. He obeyed, sitting and keeping his eyes to his food, a little awed still at being told to eat aside the Captain.

As he popped a bit of fruit into his mouth, he tried not to sneak a glance at the Captain and his first mate out of the corner of his eye. He kind of failed.