“Well, I don’t want to fight,” said Fitz. “I want to get back on board some English vessel.”
“Same here. That’s what I want to do: get you on board the schooner. That’s an English vessel.”
“But not the sort I want, sir.”
“Beggars mustn’t be choosers, my lad; but there, I’ve no more time to talk. Just one word, though: I don’t want you to fight, but I see you’ve got my double gun, and I’ll just say this. If you see Poole in difficulties with any of those murderous mongrels, nine parts Indian and one part Spaniard, don’t you flinch about using it.”
“I shouldn’t, sir, then.”
“All right; then be off.”
The skipper turned away, and Poole hurried up.
“What’s my governor been saying to you?”
“Bullied me for being here,” replied Fitz; “but he said that I might go with you.”
“He did!”