“Ha, ha, ha!” rang out in a harsh, discordant tone from somewhere inside the house, and this acted as the signal for a burst of jeering laughter which made the lieutenant wince and his face turn pale even to his lips, which he bit until they were white, while a low, dull murmur that sounded like the threatening premonitory growl of the British bulldog being pricked by an insult, ran through the group of sailors.
“Silence, there!” cried the lieutenant, in a choking voice; and the murmur died away.
“That’s right, Mr Officer,” said the American. “Yew always drop on to your fellows sharply when they show signs of mutiny. I allus do. And you within there, none of that row. Quiet, do you hear?”
There was another low mocking laugh, but the American paid no heed, only went on talking at Mr Anderson.
“That was very good of you, squire, but while you’re about it if I were you I’d just say a word or two to them two bantam-cock-like boys of officers of yours, who keep on sneering like at my men and setting their backs up. You don’t mean it, of course, being ready to do what’s right. So you give ’em a good talking to when you get ’em back safe aboard. You’d best do it, for if them puppies keep on that how they may make my chaps wild. Now just look at that!”
For the two midshipmen had been growing warmer for some minutes past as they listened to the American’s insulting language, and at last, hot with annoyance, Murray, unable to contain himself and forgetting discipline, clapped his hand upon his side-arms and took a step forward, his eyes flashing with boyish anger, and exclaimed—
“Do you mean that insulting language for me, sir?”
Perhaps there was something in the lad’s manner, as in that of Roberts’, who immediately followed his example, or maybe the overseer’s men were only waiting for an opportunity to be aggressive. At any rate, they seized upon the opportunity to burst out into a derisive laugh.
“Quiet! Steady, my lads!” cried the lieutenant fiercely.
“But, sir—” began Murray hotly.