We might have continued at such pleasing occupation a very long while, but that day began to break, and there was too much work on hand to admit of further foolishness.
Darius gave up the tiller to me, and went below to look after the prisoners, returning five minutes later with the British officer, who, much to my surprise, was no longer fettered.
"This gentleman has decided that he can give his parole to us as well as to brother officers," Darius said by way of introduction. "He has pledged his word to make no attempt at escape, therefore we will give him the liberty of the ship."
"Which won't mean much for one who has been accustomed to the luxury found on board some of his majesty's vessels," I added, trying to show that I had some semblance of good breeding. "An oyster pungy isn't the most beautiful craft in the world."
"Very true," the officer replied with a friendly smile; "but there is a vast difference between the hold and the deck of an oysterman."
"Yes, I can fancy that to one unaccustomed to such things, the Avenger seems like a foul ship below."
"So your vessel is named the Avenger?" and the gentleman looked at me quizzically. "Isn't that rather high-sounding for a peaceful fisherman?"
The officer was so different from what I had fancied a Britisher might be, and had such a friendly air, that I made no hesitation in telling him how the pungy got her name, and after the explanation he ceased to laugh at it.
"I can well believe that some of your people have been abused," he said in a kindly tone; "but there are always two sides to a story, and the commander of one of the king's ships may believe that he is doing absolutely that which is right and just, when in your eyes he commits a most grievous wrong."
I had sense enough to understand that if I attempted to argue with the officer on the causes of the war I should speedily find myself in deep water, therefore I made reply: