"No, no, Master Rodney," said Tattooed Tom; "this will never do! What, do you think we will let you venture into that murderer's den while so many able-bodied fellows hang astern?"
"But I know his language, which none of you do."
"He speaks the Queen's English now as well as any of us," said Carlton; "and if I had only a pistol or a musket to give me but one chance for my life, I would have made it speak to him long ago, in the lingo such pirates know best."
"Moreover, as I did not molest him on the night we crossed the line, he has no particular grudge at me?" I urged.
"There is some sense and truth in that," muttered several of the crew.
"I'll go—it is settled," said I, anxious to solve the mystery of the groans, while feeling a glow of triumph at the applause I should gain for the risk I ran, which assuredly was not a small one.
"It is a shame for us lubberly fellows to stand by here and see that lad risk his life," said Probart, one of the crew; "and if so be that Creole picaroon falls foul of him——"
"If he does," exclaimed Tom Lambourne through his firmly set teeth, while striking his clenched right hand on the hard palm of the left, "may I never see England again if we don't attack him both at stem and stern at once! I'll drop down the skylight, with as many as will follow me, while you, Ned, will dash down the companionway with the rest, and then at him with hatchet, handsaw, and capstan-bar. He can't kill us all, shipmates, that's one comfort—he can't kill us all!"
The prospect of an early demise was neither soothed nor encouraged by this promise of the bloody scene that was to follow.
The carpenter gave me a small but very sharp tomahawk. I concealed it in my breast, and resolved to use it to some purpose if molested in the cabin. The idea flashed upon me that by one determined blow I might disable him forever, and perhaps do an act of justice by dispatching him outright.