I ran to them, and then I saw what this meant. For, in the midst—that is, on the rise of the hill—stood Ambrose; and two pirates had guard over him, bearing muskets. Those looking on made sport of the doomed man.
“He be going a long voyage, sure!” said one, “and, as parsons say, ’tis blasting hot in that port! Well then, boys, give him a rum puncheon, can’t ye? for to take along with him!”
“Ay, ay,” said a second; “there be some jolly mates yonder will be right glad on’t—Firejaw, an’ Bully Crackerbones, an’ Bullfrog, an’——”
“I’ll warrant, they a’n’t hotter than we!” put in a third, “Why, this slope be blazing like a grill! If the Doctor come not soon, I shall weigh!”
“What! and part from old Blackcoat?” returned the other, “Why, ha, ha,” (turning to Ambrose), “shalt pass for a vicar in that garb! Do but troll over a little Latin—I know you can—with a pax vobiscum withal, and you’ll make the other port!”
But Ambrose answered not a word, standing with folded arms and stern gaze bent on the ground.
“Hist!” cried one on a sudden, “the Doctor!”
On this, every man got immediately to his feet, every voice was hushed. The guards ported their muskets.
Doctor Copicus approached with slow steps, leaning upon a staff of ivory and gold. His scarlet robe and broad-brimmed hat shone glorious in the sunlight. As he drew near, I observed that every man looked this way and that, but never on him. Abashed they stood, those stalwart and swarthy pirates, like a crew of chidden schoolboys!
As for Ambrose, he gave no sign.