"Why, Señor," said Rupert, "I was but anticipating your kindness and your gratitude. There are slaves and slaves. Surely if we show ourselves to be your best and most valuable slaves, you will give us some small concessions and rewards in return when it comes to the dieting?"
"Your tongue is too long," said the boatswain sourly, "and besides, I don't believe that is what you meant, you Englishman."
"Well," said Rupert, "you might call me worse names that don't belong to me than Englishman."
The boatswain scowled and turned away to his work, and the slaves tried to get what rest they could where they sat. The deck beneath their feet was covered with unspeakable filth, and even if they had the inclination to lie down upon it, there was no opportunity. Each slave was chained by the ankles to the traverse-bar (or "horse," as it was named) which ran beneath the bench in front, and chained also by wrist-shackles to the cleats on the oar loom. But with the oar-blade a-cock, and the loom drawn in and its end tucked under the gangway, one could snatch rest sitting, with the weary head pillowed on the arms and the oar loom.
But there was a short enough spell of sleep allowed them. The galley fell off into the trough when she had no weigh on her, and with the roll the Spanish soldiers' stomachs reeled within them. So once more the timekeeper sat down to his table and began monotonously to beat with the gavel, and once more the oars were dipped and swung. The rowers might go on till they burst their souls, so that these doughty warriors were eased. But this time there was a better performance. The captain of each oar—those, that is, who sat at the inner ends—were men of experience, slaves many of them of long standing in the galleys, or men brought up to sea-faring.
"Mine's the hardest driving oar in the ship," cried Rupert with strange exultation.
"And mine's not the worst," the secretary cried back to him, falling in with her patron's mood.
Two others voices chimed in, both English.
"Silly braggarts, do you think you're doing all the work in the galley?" cried one.
"Foils," grumbled another. "Why tew more than ye need? There's note t'addle by it."