"I cannot say that they are always so, but I should like to procure them."
"Shall I tell you how to do so, shipmate?"
"If you please, Senor," growled the Spaniard.
"Go to sleep, if you can, with that which is better than the formula of prayers, which at times you pay out like the line running off a log-reel."
"And what is it you mean, mio Capitano?"
"A good conscience," replied Weston, with a peculiar emphasis.
A black scowl came over the Spaniard's swarthy visage, as he touched the rim of his hat, darted a furious glance at his chief accuser, the white-haired seaman Roberts, and to end the examination, walked forward.
Soon after this, when evening came on we heard a noise in the forecastle, and the voice of Hislop, exclaiming—
"Stand clear—sheer off, Antonio! If you come athwart me, I'll knock you down with a handspike! What! you grip your knife, do you? Well, just do it again, and I'll chuck you overboard like a bit of old junk."
"What is the matter now?" said I, hastening forward.