Ouvery was no craven, but, on touch of the iron muzzle, he started and dropped his knife. He held perfectly still, muttering something that I had no care to hear; and I bawled loud and repeatedly, “Help! Help!”
It was then that the Englishman came out of his swoon; and, rising up in his bed, “Where am I?” cried he. “What is this?”
“You are on the ship Tiger,” replied I. “You were taken up from a driving boat—you with an Indian, who also is on the ship.”
“Ha! And this fellow?”
“He is the Quartermaster. He was about to murder you; I know not why.”
“O-ho!” cried he, “a mystery! I am even eager to fathom it. Turn hither, fellow, that I may look upon the majesty of your countenance. Turn hither, I say!”
But Ouvery, on a sudden, ducked his head; and, with incredible swiftness, whipped from the cabin, and was gone. Yet the other had got view of his face, and he cried:
“The pirate! ’Tis the pirate, by the Lord Harry!
“So I am fallen among thieves and murderers!” says he, turning to me with fine disdain. “Well, ’tis not the first time. You’re out on the account—heh?”
I was taken aback at this, and knew not what to answer. Yet something in his countenance told me he was a man I might trust. I resolved to tell him distinctly how it was with us; and, as briefly as possible, I did so.