“We can do no better,” said Oxbelly. “If ever I chance to meet that fellow again, I will trouble him to repeat his words. Trim the sails, my lads.”
“His language was unpardonable,” observed Jack.
“Since I’ve been in the service, Mr Easy, I have always observed that some officers appear to imagine that, because they are under the king’s pennant, they are warranted in insulting and tyrannising over all those who have not the honour to hoist it; whereas the very fact of their being king’s officers should be an inducement to them to show an example of courtesy and gentlemanly conduct in the execution of their duty, however unpleasant it may be.”
“It is only those who, insignificant themselves, want to make themselves of importance by the pennant they serve under,” replied our hero.
“Very true, Mr Easy; but you are not aware that a great part of the ill-will shown to the service, is owing to the insolence of those young men in office. The king’s name is a warrant for every species of tyranny and unwarrantable conduct. I remember Mrs Oxbelly telling one of them, when—”
“I beg your pardon, Mr Oxbelly,” interrupted Jack, “but we have no time to chat now; the breeze is coming down fast, and I perceive the prizes are closing. Let us lower down the boat, send the men on board again, and give them their orders—which I will do in writing, in case they part company.”
“Very true, sir. It will be dark in half an hour, and as we are now standing inshore, they will think that we intend to remain on the coast. As soon as it is quite dark we will shape our course for Palermo. I will go down and look at the chart.”