“Well,” said Gregory slowly, “I’m for the fight. We’ve got some weapons now, and hang me if I’m going to strike to a set of treacherous pirates like this.”
The captain grasped his hand and began smoking.
“Quiets the pain a bit,” he whispered. “An ugly wound; but I don’t think the kris was poisoned.”
“Why, Strong,” said the first-mate sympathetically, “we ought to give up and escape.”
“My dear Gregory, I’m quite a cripple; but if you and the others will stand by me, we’ll stick to the ship till she sinks, if we have such bad luck as that; and if she doesn’t sink, we’ll save her.”
“I’ll answer for it they will stand by you,” said the mate, and going to the window he lowered himself down, and told those below how matters stood.
“Now, major,” he said, “what do you say?”
“Say, sor!” whispered the major; “why, there isn’t anything to say. I’ve paid for my passage and the passages of the wife and daughter to Hong-Kong, and does Captain Strong think I’m going to let them finish the voyage in a scrap of an open boat. No, sor; fight, sor, fight, of course.”
“Will you stand by us, my lads?” said Mr Gregory.
“Will we stand by you, sir!” growled Small. “Why, of course we will. I want to make J Small, his mark, on some of their brown carkidges. Don’t you, boys?”