“Now then, out o’ that,” said the old sailor, menacingly. “If you want a caulk, just you take it below in your bunk.”
The man bent his head, as he leaped lightly out, gave Oakum a curious look from beneath his half-closed eyelids, and then limped forward.
“I don’t like the looks o’ that chap, Mr Dutch. He’s one o’ the sort, that if you hit him, he’d out with a knife and sheath it in a man’s ribs. That chap was listening, that’s what he was a-doing, though he pretended to be asleep. I don’t like the look on him, nor of some more o’ them as come aboard with him, and if the skipper don’t look out there’ll be mischief.”
“I’m afraid you are given to prophesying evil, Oakum,” said Dutch, with a smile.
“Well, sir, I on’y says what I thinks, but, mind you this: if we get back safe, I shall be surprised, for never yet, when I’ve gone out to sea with petticoats on board have we got back without an accident.”
“Nonsense, man.”
“’Taint nonsense, sir; it’s fate,” said Oakum, “and what’s more, look here, I ain’t a sooperstitious man, but the speerits o’ them sailors as was lost in the olden times along o’ the treasure ships ain’t a-going to let us get hold o’ what they’ve been watching all those hundreds o’ years without making a bit of a how-de-do.”