“What you want?” shouted Satan when they were in speaking distance.
“Cark says you’re to come aboard right now,” replied Sellers. “You’ve played him one trick, and he don’t want you to play him another.”
“Oh, don’t he?”
“No, he don’t.”
Satan spat into the water alongside and leaned comfortably on the rail. Carquinez was as close to the Sarah as Sellers, yet he spoke no word, leaving his deputy to do the talking, and contenting himself with making occasional birdlike noises.
“Well,” said Satan, ruffled, for all his appearances of calm, “you can tell him I’ll come when I want to, and that won’t be before tomorrow morning, for his damn cheek! Ahoy there, Cark! Ain’t you got a tongue in your head?”
“He’s like a blessed canary bird,” cut in Jude. “Hi, there, Sellers! what you done with the cage?”
“Is that your ultermatum?” demanded Sellers, ignoring Jude and addressing Satan.
“My which matum?”
“Is that all you gotta say?”