“Captain,” said Bloody Dick, “these are land-lubbers who were coming to our cave. We have captured them and their treasure, which looks valuable. What shall we do with them?”
“Let the prisoners die,” said the captain, in a blood-curdling voice. “Let them walk the plank; but we will keep the treasure.”
With a scream Aunt Clare threw herself on her knees before the pirate captain. “Oh, good Captain Bulldog,” she said, “spare us! we are so young and innocent. One of us has a dear little baby at home who will feel so sad to lose us! Take our treasure, if you will, but spare our lives. Yonder coffee-pot is solid tin, and so are the knives and spoons. Let such a prize content you!”
Aunt Clare pretended to cry so pitifully that the three smallest pirates began to boohoo with sympathy, until Slippery Dick whispered:—
“Sh! You kids! She’s only pretending. Don’t you know it’s all play?”
Bulldog Bill listened to the prisoner’s words, but shook his head. “It is not enough,” he said. “What will you do for us besides?”
“We will be your slaves,” said Aunt Clare. “We will prepare your dinner.”
Still the captain shook his head. “Can’t you do something else?” he asked.
Aunt Clare had an idea. “I will tell you a story,” she said.
“Ha! that is good!” exclaimed the captain. “You shall tell us a tale, but it must be one that we have never heard before. If you do this we will set you free.”