Label. The sharks?
Gil. Aye, the blue-jackets, the press-gang—now you’d be invaluable to them; take my word, if they see you, you are a lost man.
Label. Never fear me, the blue-jackets, bless you, if they were to catch hold of me, I should run off and leave a can of flip in their hands; now what do you think of that?
Gil. Why I think of the two, the flip would be far the most desirable; but if you will go, why, a good night to you, and a happy escape.
Label. All the same thanks to you for your intelligence; press me, bless you they’d sooner take my physic than me; no, no, I’m a privileged man—good-night, good-night.
[Exit R.
Gil. That fellow has killed more people than ever I saw; how he looks his trade, whenever I behold him, he appears to me like a long-necked pint bottle of rheubarb, to be taken at three draughts; but I must put all thing, to rights—here’s my master and Miss Lucy will be here in a minute; the house is full of customers, and it threatens to be a boisterous night.
Enter Reef, disguised in a large great coat. L.
Reef. I say young man, (Gilbert starts.) why what are you starting at?
Gil. Nothing—only at first I didn’t know whether it was a man or a bear.