"And who's next—come!" says he softly, scowling from one to other of the shrinking company. "You, Amos Penarth, and you, Richard Farnaby, aye and half a dozen others o' ye, you've sailed wi' me ere now and you know when I say a thing I mean it. And you'd fight, would ye, my last words to you being 'see to it there be no quarrelling or riot.'"
"Why, Cap'n," says one, "'tis all along o' these new 'listed rogues—"
"Aye, master," says another, "and that's gospel-true, theer aren't a right sailor-man among 'em—"
"Then we'll learn 'em to be!" says Penfeather. "Stand forward the new men—show a leg and bustle, ye dogs!" Scowling and muttering, some twelve unlovely fellows obeyed. "I' faith!" says Penfeather, looking them over, "Here's fine stuff for the gallows! And where's the rest of 'em?"
"Gone aboard this morning along o' Toby Hudd the bo's'un!"
"See here, my bright lads," quoth Penfeather, eyeing each scowling face in turn, "learn this—when you come aboard my ship and I say to one o' ye do this or do that, he does it, d'ye see, or—up to the yard-arm he swings by his thumbs or his neck as occasion warrants. D'ye get me, my bully roarers?"
Not a man of them spake a word, but all stood shifting uneasily beneath Penfeather's quick bright eye, shuffling their feet and casting furtive glances on their fellows.
"Now as to this lump o' roguery," says Penfeather, spurning the still unconscious man with his foot, "have him into the yard and heave a bucket o' water over him. As to you, Farnaby, muster the hands, and stand by to go aboard in half an hour—every unhung rascal."
Without we came on the misfortunate landlord still in the deeps of gloom, but upon Adam's assurance that all damages should be made good, he brought us up a pair of stairs to a fair chamber and there served us a most excellent meal.
Scarce had we risen from table than comes the man Penarth a-knocking, cap in hand, to say the men stood ready to go aboard. We found some score fellows drawn up before the inn, and a desperate lot of cut-throats they looked, what with their hurts and general hang-dog air as they stood there in the light of a rising moon. Having looked them over each and every, Penfeather spat, and setting them in Godby's charge, ordered them to go on before.