Lord Kildonan complied, and in a moment not a man was left on the poop deck save two seamen at the wheel, and the sentinel. I had the good fortune to be the latter.
"Choose one of these swords, sir," said Cranky, "and stand on your defence. I'll teach you, lord and earl thof ye be, that I command this ship."
Kildonan took one of the swords, on which Cranky instantly unsheathed the other, crying,—
"On guard, on guard, or whiz? damme. I am through you."
"Captain Cranky," said the Earl, with stern dignity; "I would beg of you to remember that I am, probably, a much better swordsman than you, having had the misfortune to be some years a prisoner of war in France, where, having a good maître d'armes, I had little else to occupy my leisure hours, than the use of the small sword——"
"What the devil is all this to me?" asked Cranky.
"Simply this, sir; that if you are determined to fight, I will meet you with pistols on shore, when we shall be on more equal terms."
"You Scotch swab of a lord; you—you are a lubberly coward and dare not fight. 'Sblood, I'll have you carried to the main deck and drenched with buckets of bilge water—I will; or towed over-board at the end of a line; on guard—on guard," he added, making a vicious thrust.
The Earl grew deadly pale.
"Fellow," said he, "you must be either mad or drunk to address in such terms one who is a peer of the realm, and Colonel in his Majesty's service."