“Silence, you scoundrel!—How dare you?” cried the officer angrily.
“Couldn’t help it, master,” growled Humpy. “Make a horse laugh to hear such gammon.”
“What! Do you say that what he tells me is not true?”
“It is true, master,” cried Pete, “every word—”
“All lies,” snarled the poacher savagely. “He was in the fight, and got hurt. He’s one of us. That Pete Burge peached on us, and brought the sailor Jacks on us; and he wants to get out of it to let us go alone. Lies, captain; all lies.”
“What do you say, my men?” said the officer sternly, turning to Humpy’s companions.
“Same as he does,” cried the pressed men in chorus.
“And you?” cried the officer, turning to Nic. “Are you one of this fellow’s comrades?”
“No, master, he aren’t,” cried Pete; “he aren’t, indeed. He’s nought to me. He’s—”
“Silence, sir!” roared the officer. “You, sir,” he continued, turning to Nic, “speak out. Are you one of this fellow’s comrades?”