The cockney had long ago resigned himself to despair, and when he found himself safe and dry at last, the revulsion was too great, and he burst into tears.
Captain Joker went up and took him by the hand, kindly.
"My dear fellow," said he, "I had no intention of cutting you adrift more than temporarily. It seemed to me that the tone which you assumed to me, on board my ship, was so very extraordinary for a prisoner to address his captor with, that a little lesson of this kind would not be bestowed in vain. Trust me, my dear sir, if I have caused you any pain, you compelled me to do so, and I'm sorry for it. As long as you remain upon my ship, pray consider my cabin your own. I would treat you as a guest rather than as a prisoner. Pray dine with me to-day. And dinner is almost on the table."
This magnanimity almost crushed the poor prisoner. He dried his tears, and said in a much manlier voice than heretofore, as he grasped the hand of his generous foe:
"Captain, you 'ave the goodness to treat me like ha gentleman. This 'ere is returning good for evil vith a wengeance, hand I beg to hacknowledge that I ham halmost crushed by your noble hand belated sentiments."
With that, they went down into the cabin together, and, from the way we heard the corks popping, they must have had a jolly time.
The lesson was not lost upon the cockney. His tone to everybody was thereafter greatly improved. He remained for some time with us, and, though we were frequently amused at his vanity and his antipathy to the letter H, we found him, in the main, a pretty good fellow.
CHAPTER V. ANOTHER PRIZE—FISHING FOR SHARKS.
It was on the third morning following the event narrated in our last chapter that we fell in with another—our second prize. She was a noble East Indiaman, a ship that could almost have picked up our saucy little privateer, and carried her at her stern like a yawl, had it not been for the difference of the cannon we carried. But, of course, that made all the difference in the world.