“That,” quoth Mr. Nye, viewing the damage with calculating eye, “that were a bit nearer, sir. Forward there!” he roared suddenly. “Any on ye hurt?”
“Nary a soul, Sharkie!” a cheery voice roared back; “us du be layin’ low-like!”
“The brig be gettin’ ’er range on us,” continued Mr. Nye, “which may mak’ it a bit ark’ard for a minute or two, ’specially for the young ’ooman—best take ’er below, sirs.” And away he lurched for a word with the steersman, while Sir John made his way to her who clung, staring wide-eyed at their oncoming, relentless pursuer.
“Rose,” said he, “I will see you below!”
“Sir,” she answered, “you will no such thing!”
“There is danger on deck here!”
“So is there below.”
“Will you obey me?”
“Never!”