“And if you had not fought a duel, I should not have given the advice.”
“And if the boatswain had not been obliged to come on board without his trousers, at Gibraltar, I should not have fought a duel.”
“And if you had not joined the ship, the boatswain would have had his trousers on.”
“And if my father had not been a philosopher, I should not have gone to sea; so that it is all my father’s fault, and he has killed four men off the coast of Sicily, without knowing it—cause and effect. After all, there’s nothing like argument; so having settled that point, let us go to dinner.”
Having finished their meal, Jack went forward and observed the land ahead; they steered the same course for three or four hours.
“We must haul our wind more,” said Gascoigne; “it will not do to put into any small town: we have now to choose, whether we shall land on the coast and sink the speronare, or land at some large town.”
“We must argue that point,” replied Jack.
“In the meantime, do you take the helm, for my arm is quite tired,” replied Gascoigne: “you can steer well enough; by-the-bye, I may as well look at my shoulder, for it is quite stiff.” Gascoigne pulled off his coat, and found his shirt bloody and sticking to the wound, which, as we before observed, was slight. He again took the helm, while Jack washed it clean and then bathed it with aquadente.
“Now take the helm again,” said Gascoigne; “I’m on the sick list.”
“And as surgeon—I’m an idler,” replied Jack; “but what shall we do?” continued he; “abandon the speronare at night and sink her, or run in for a town?”