“And I call them—pirates!”
“Pirates!” echoed Joram, fastening his eye, with marked distrust, on the countenance of the attentive Wilder. “‘Pirate’ is a harsh word, mister Robert, and should not be thrown in any gentleman’s face without testimony enough to clear one in an action of defamation, should such a thing get fairly before twelve sworn and conscientious men. But I suppose you know what you say, and before whom you say it.”
“I do; and now, as it seems that your opinion in this matter amounts to just nothing at all, you will please”
“To do any thing you order,” cried Joram, very evidently delighted to change the subject.
“To go and ask the customers below if they are dry,” continued the other, beckoning for the publican to retire by the way he entered, with the air of one who felt certain of being obeyed. As soon as the door was closed on the retiring landlord, he turned to his remaining companion, and continued, “You seem as much struck aback as unbelieving Joe himself, at what you have just heard.”
“It is a harsh suspicion, and should be well supported, old man, before you venture to repeat it. What pirate has lately been heard of on this coast?”
“There is the well-known Red Rover,” returned the other, dropping his voice, and casting a furtive look around him, as if even he thought extraordinary caution was necessary in uttering the formidable name.
“But he is said to keep chiefly in the Caribbean Sea.”
“He is a man to be any where, and every where. The King would pay him well who put the rogue into the hands of the law.”
“A thing easier planned than executed,” Wilder thoughtfully answered.