It was, indeed, felt to be an eventful morning, and Mr Parkley looked pale as he stood on deck in the cool grey mist talking to Dutch, and wondering whether good fortune was to attend their venture. As for Oakum and ’Pollo, they, too, were both on their mettle, for on them depended a good deal; while old Rasp also appeared among the excited group on deck, where he had been seen but little during the voyage after the first few days, for he had spent most of his time below, polishing helmets and oiling and re-oiling valves in the cabin he shared with Oakum, and where they had squabbled and disagreed all through the voyage.
There was a complete change in Rasp as he came up to where his employers stood, for his listless way was thrown off, and a look of importance overspread his features as he gave a side glance at Oakum, which plainly said, “There, your reign is over, and mine has begun.”
“Shall I be getting up the tackle, Mr Pug?” he said, “so as to be well ready.”
“No, Rasp, we shall not want you yet,” replied Dutch. “Wait till we get to the spot.”
Oakum gave a chuckle which made Rasp turn upon him angrily; but the old fellow’s face was as hard and solid as if carved out of wood, and with not the vestige of a smile thereon; but ’Pollo, who stood close by, was showing his white teeth to the fullest extent.
“What are you grinning at, old ebony?” snarled Rasp, glad to have somebody upon whom he could turn.
“I just tink, sah, dat as I go to be berry busy find de treasure ship ’long o’ Mass’ Oakum, you like to come and ’joy yourself, poke de galley fire all day.”
“Yah!” ejaculated Rasp, angrily; and he walked to the side, and began spitting viciously at the rippling waves under the schooner’s counter.
“How is it that boat’s down in the water?” exclaimed the captain, suddenly, as he crossed to where the dingy was swinging by her painter.
“I left her hanging to the davits last night,” said the mate. “Do you know, Oakum?”