Trudge. Then pray, sir, proceed to reconnoitre; for the sooner the better.
Inkle. Then look out, d'ye hear, and tell me if you discover any danger.
Trudge. Y——Ye—s—Yes.
Inkle. Well, is the coast clear?
Trudge. Eh! Oh lord!—Clear! [Rubbing his eyes.] Oh dear! oh dear! the coast will soon be clear enough now, I promise you——The ship is under sail, sir!
Inkle. Confusion! my property carried off in the vessel.
Trudge. All, all, sir, except me.
Inkle. They may report me dead, perhaps, and dispose of my property at the next island. [The vessel appears under sail.]
Trudge. Ah! there they go. [A gun fired.]——That will be the last report we shall ever hear from 'em I'm afraid.—That's as much as to say, Good bye to ye. And here we are left—two fine, full-grown babes in the wood!