All had gone below except Dutch and Mr Parkley, who turned round and addressed their renegade followers.
“As for you, Rasp,” exclaimed Mr Parkley, “if anyone had sworn to me you could be such a scoundrel, I would have called him a liar.”
“You keep a civil tongue in your head,” snarled Rasp. “I worked faithful for you, and you made your money. Now it’s my turn. You’ll have to work, and dive too—d’yer hear, and I’m going to make the money.”
The Cuban looked on curiously as these exchanges took place, and his face flushed with pleasure as he saw Dutch turn upon Oakum, just as he was cutting himself a fresh plug of tobacco with his great clasp knife.
“You cowardly old traitor,” cried Dutch; and, unable to contain himself, he caught the old sailor by the throat and shook him violently.
This treatment seemed to rouse the old fellow into a state of ungovernable passion, for, giving way in the surprise of the moment, he was driven back against the cover of the cabin hatch, but, recovering himself directly, with a savage oath he raised his knife and struck Dutch Pugh a fearful blow full in the chest, and the young man staggered back along the deck.