"Not go away! Tare an ages," cried Terry; "d'ye want to be a prisoner?"
"Course not. I mean this: I don't want to go an' leave my friend here, Motier, in the hands of the Philistines."
"Sure ye can't do anythin' for him; an' he's among his own kin—so he is; for he jabbers French ayqual to the best of thim."
"No, I can't do anything for him as I am; that's a fact; and so I'm bound to put myself in a position whar I can do somethin'; that is, I'm bound to seize this here schewner, an' bring the old Parson back to the fold."
"Arrah, sure, an' that's the right sort of talk—so it is; an' it's mesilf that's glad to hear ye. An' so, what is it, captain dear? Out with it. Tell me what yer plan is, an' I'm wid ye—so I am."
"I think, Terry, that we can manage to get the schewner from these chaps—can't we?"
"Sure we can. Sure, an' I'd ingage to do it alone, almost."
"They don't watch much."
"Not a bit of it."
"The two that watch at night sleep half the time."