"Did ye put a flea in the rascal's ear, Murray?" he demanded. "By the Mass, I never thought to hear ye tolerate such impudence on your own deck."
"I am no man for quarreling without an adequate end in sight," returned my great-uncle. "Never threaten unless you must, chevalier, and then smite with a sure aim."
"Words!" grumbled the Irishman. "'Tis time we had a little action."
Moira disengaged herself from her father and came to stand betwixt Peter and me.
"If there's to be more fighting," says she, "I will have a pistol and cutlass and do my share. I'll not stand idly by to be shot at the way I was on the Santissima Trinidad—more by reason that if I must sail with pirates I'll be preferring Captain Murray to the fellow yonder in the red coat."
There was a high gallantry about her that drew a chuckle even from Peter.
"Some time I take you to der wilderness country, andt we shoot us bears andt scalp Injuns," he promised.
She clasped her hands.
"I am all for that, Peter," she cried. "Sure, I'd sooner fight Indians than pirates. But see, Bob! There's the red-headed boy will be making signals to you from the larboard ladder."
Darby McGraw's flaming top-knot projected just far enough above the level of the deck to show his eyes and a hand that jerked mysteriously at me.