“They’ll send after them fast enough, Jack, and they’ll all be in limbo again before long,” replied Gascoigne.
“Well, I suppose we must obey orders; but it goes against my conscience to save such villainous-looking rascals. Armourer, hammer away.”
The armourer, who, with the seamen, appeared very much of Jack’s opinion, and had not commenced his work, now struck off the padlocks, one by one, with his sledge-hammer. As soon as they were released the slaves were ordered into the cutter, and when it was sufficiently loaded Jack shoved off, followed by Gascoigne as guard, and landed them at the point about a cable’s length distant. It required six trips before they were all landed: the last cargo were on shore, and Easy was desiring the men to shove off, when one of the galleriens turned round, and cried out to Jack in a mocking tone, “Addio signor, a reveder la.” Jack started, stared, and in the squalid, naked wretch who addressed him, he recognised Don Silvio!
“I will acquaint Don Rebiera of your arrival, signor,” said the miscreant, springing up the rocks, and mixing with the rest, who now commenced hooting and laughing at their preservers.
“Ned,” observed Easy to Gascoigne, “we have let that rascal loose.”
“More’s the pity,” replied Gascoigne; “but we have only obeyed orders.”
“It can’t be helped, but I’ve a notion there will be some mischief out of this.”
“We obeyed orders,” replied Gascoigne.
“We’ve let the rascals loose not ten miles from Don Rebiera’s.”
“Obeyed orders, Jack.”