Jack nodded.
“Then we took the cutter.”
“Yes, Bart.”
“And with that cutter we took first one ship, and then with that another, always masters, and getting, bit by bit, stout, staunch men.”
“And savages,” said Jack, bitterly.
“Well, yes, some on ’em is savage like, specially Mazzard.”
“Black Mazzard is a ruffianly wretch!”
“True, lad; but we’ve gone on and got better and stronger, till we have under our feet the swiftest schooner as swims the sea, and Commodore Junk’s name’s known all along the coast.”
“And hated, and a price set upon his head; and now that he is a prisoner his people turn against him, and his most faithful follower wants to go and leave him in the lurch.”
“Nay, don’t say that, my lad,” cried Bart. “We was overmatched, and he was took.”