Here he snatched a pistol from his sash, and, taking aim full at the skipper’s breast, he pulled the trigger. Fortunately, the weapon snapped and did not explode. The ruffian held it a moment in his hand, and then letting it rest upon the table, he said, with a horrible imprecation,
“Ye see you wos not born to be shot; but we’ll try what salt water will do for ye by-and-by.”
Taking out his knife at the conclusion of this speech, he picked the flint of his pistol, opened the pan, shook the priming, and then shoved the weapon back in his belt. The mention of the “Scourge,” however, had evidently caused him some trepidation, for when he resumed the perusal of the manifest it was in a hurried, agitated sort of way, and not at all at his ease.
Smoothing the papers again before him, he went on, making running commentaries as he read: “Eighty-six cases of silks––light, and easily stowed away; twenty-nine tons bar iron; sixty-four sugar-kettles! it will help to sink the brig; forty pipes of Bordeaux; two hundred baskets Champagne; three hundred and fifty boxes of claret––sour stuff, I warrant you; two casks Cognac brandy––but I say, you Blunt,” said the fellow, looking up, “where’s your own private bottle? It’s thirsty work spellin’ out all this ’ritin’, and my mouth’s as dry as a land-crab’s claws. Howsoever,” he continued, as he caught 32 the glance of satisfaction which came over the swarthy faces of his companions beside the captain, “wait a bit, and we’ll punch a hole in a fresh barrel presently.”
Having run through the manifest, he opened another paper and exclaimed, “Hallo! what have we here? List of passengers––Madame Rosalie Piron and––ho! that’s a French piece, I knows by the name. Where is she? Hasn’t died on the v’yage, has she? D’ye hear there, ye infarnal Blunt?”
The captain’s face was troubled, and his head dropped down on his breast without replying; but one of the scoundrels at his side struck him a brutal blow with the back of his knife-hilt on the mouth, and jerking up, he said, with an effort,
“Yes, we have a female passenger on board, with a helpless child; but I pray you, in God’s name, to leave the innocent woman in peace. You’ve robbed and ruined me and my poor old wife––turn me adrift if you like, drown or hang me, but don’t harm the poor lady.”
The tears blinded him as he spoke, and mingled with the bloody stream which trickled down his cheeks. The ruffian’s ugly face and bloodshot eyes lighted up with a devilish and sinister satisfaction as the skipper began his appeal, but before he had well finished speaking he broke in,
“Avast your jaw! will ye? You’ll have enough to look out for your own gullet, my lad, without mindin’ any body else’s; so turn to and say your prayers afore eight bells is struck, because there’s sharks off Jamaiky.”
Then addressing his own scoundrelly myrmidons, he exclaimed, “Look out sharp for that old chap, my lads, while I goes to sarch for the woman passenger!” As he turned, however, to leave the cabin, one of his subordinates began to rummage about in a locker, when the burly brute said, “Tonio, don’t get to drinkin’ too airly, boy, for ye know it’s agin the law till the prize is snug in harbor, or sunk, as the case may be.”