“Well, why don’t you speak?” cried Lauré sharply.
“’Cause we’re a-going to do same as him,” growled Rolls, nodding at Oakum.
“And what are you going to do, Sam Oakum?” cried Lauré, who was getting wroth at his plan for reducing his prisoners being foiled. “Come, my man, I’ll make it well worth your while to turn over on my side. The game’s up with those you have served, and if you hold out you will be forced to work with a pistol at your head; but if you come over to me, and help me well to navigate the ship, and get the treasure from a couple more galleons, I’ll make you a rich man for life.”
This was a painful moment for Dutch and his friends, for, instead of indignantly refusing, the old sailor, whom they thought so staunch, hesitated, and turned and whispered to Rasp, who was by his side.
“Come, look sharp I’ve no time for fooling,” cried Lauré. “What do you say?”
Oakum looked at his fellow-prisoners, then at Rasp and the two sailors, and gave his quid a fresh turn before speaking.
“S’pose I says, ‘No; I’ll stick trumps to my old skipper?’” he growled.
“Well, then,” said Lauré, showing his teeth, “you’ll have to work twice as hard, you’ll have three days given you to carry the schooner to the next sunken wreck, and if you don’t do it in that time I shall send a bullet through your head.”
“Thankye,” said Oakum. “Well now, suppose as I says I’ll fight for you, sail the schooner, and help get up some more treasure, what’ll you give me?”
“Oakum!” exclaimed Dutch, who had believed strongly in the old man’s faith.