“Well, then, Captain, I have told the men that you will not take the oath.”
“Take the oath!” replied I, with scorn; “no; I administer the oath to others. I make them take it. I make them swear fidelity to me. Such has been my conduct, and I shall not depart from it.”
“Well, but, Captain Toplift, you don’t mean to say that he is to remain on board with us and not take the oath,” said a surly-looking ruffian. “In spite of you, he shall take the oath, Captain Toplift.”
“Captain Toplift,” said I, calmly, “do you allow one of your crew to use such language as this? Had I been captain of this ship, I would have blown his brains out as he stood. You don’t know how to deal with these rascals. I do.”
Captain Toplift, who appeared much pleased at being supported in this way by me—(strange that a single individual, whom they might have thrown overboard in a minute, should have gained such an ascendency, but so it was)—and who perceived that the men fell back, as if taken by surprise, then said, “Captain, you have taught me a good lesson, which I will take advantage of. Seize that fellow and put him in irons.”
“Hah!” cried the man, seeing that no man touched him; “who is to bell the cat! Hah!” and drew his cutlass.
“I will, then,” said I to Captain Toplift, “if you desire it;” and stepping forward I went up to the man, saying, “Come, come, my good fellow, this won’t do here; I am used to deal with such chaps as you, and I can manage worse than you, a good deal.”
I advanced till I was within the stroke of his cutlass before he was aware of it, and, seizing him by the waist, I threw him flat on his back and put my foot on his neck.
“Now,” cried I, in an authoritative voice, “put this man in irons immediately—refuse who dares. Here, you Sirs, lay hold of this fellow,” continued I, looking to the Portuguese; who accordingly came forward and led him away, assisted by others, who now joined them.
“Are there any more mutineers here?” inquired I; “if so let them step forward.”