“I hope not,” I said. “Oh no; we shall get out into the river directly.”
“No,” he said; “velly long way yet.”
“But who are these?” I said—“some village people?”
“Pilate,” he cried. “Allee come home not kill, and findee plize-money gone. Makee velly angly. Wantee chop off sailor head.”
“Like to catch ’em at it,” growled Tom Jecks, who had been very silent for some time.
“Silence there!” cried Mr Reardon sternly. Then to me, “We seem to have checked them, Herrick.”
At that moment there was a sudden stoppage in front, and our coxswain growled—
“Starn all!”
“What is it?” cried Mr Reardon, rising.
There was a rattle of matchlocks from our right, and Mr Reardon fell sidewise on to me.