"John," he said, ignoring me, "you will be so kind as to pistol the elder Master Ormerod if his son launches a blow at me."
"Aye, aye, sir," answered Silver.
And he leveled a weapon at my father. I knew, without looking behind me, that Peter and I were covered by other men. It was Peter who spoke first.
"Put down der chair, Bob," he ordered quietly.
The man called Black Dog cast the noose of a rope over his head and jerked his arms close to his side.
"Neen, neen," objected Peter, and with no visible effort he snapped the hempen strands.
A gasp went up from the room, and there was a hasty retreat from his neighborhood.
"Pistol that man, if you must," called Murray; "but use your cutlasses, if possible."
"Neen," said Peter again. "We don't fight."
"We might as well be killed now as let them carry off Bob," said my father with a sob in his voice.