“Shan’t tell you.”
“What!” cried Fitz. “And you profess to be my friend!”
“Yes; that’s why I won’t tell you,” said Poole, with his eyes twinkling. “I want to spare your feelings, or else it will make you so wild.”
“The insolent piratical old scoundrel!” cried Fitz. “How dare he!”
“Oh, don’t ask me. He’s a regular rough one with his tongue, as you know by the way in which he deals with the men; gives the dad the raspy side of his palaver sometimes, but dad never seems to mind it. He never takes any notice, because Burgess means right, and he’s such a splendid seaman.”
“Means right!” cried Fitz angrily. “Is it right to abuse a prisoner behind his back when he’s not in a position to defend himself?”
“Yes, it was too bad,” said Poole sympathetically.
“What did he say?”
“Oh, you had better not know,” replied Poole, winking to himself.
“I insist upon your telling me.”