“Well, what do you suggest?” asked Raleigh, somewhat impatiently. “You’ve told us what we can’t do. Now tell us what we can do.”
“I’d stay right here,” said Charon, “and let the ladies rescue themselves. That’s what I’d do. I’ve had the honor of bringing ‘em over here, and I think I know ‘em pretty well. I’ve watched ‘em close, and it’s my private opinion that before many days you’ll see your club-house sailing back here, with Queen Elizabeth at the hellum, and the other ladies on the for’ard deck knittin’ and crochetin’, and tearin’ each other to pieces in a conversational way, as happy as if there never had been any Captain Kidd and his pirate crew.”
“That suggestion is impossible,” said Blackstone, rising. “Whether the relief expedition amounts to anything or not, it’s good to be set going. The ladies would never forgive us if we sat here inactive, even if they were capable of rescuing themselves. It is an accepted principle of law that this climate hath no fury like a woman left to herself, and we’ve got enough professional furies hereabouts without our aiding in augmenting the ranks. We must have a boat.”
“It’ll cost you a thousand dollars a week,” said Charon.
“I’ll subscribe fifty,” cried Hamlet.
“I’ll consult my secretary,” said Solomon, “and find out how many of my wives have been abducted, and I’ll pay ten dollars apiece for their recovery.”
“That’s liberal,” said Hawkshaw. “There are sixty-three of ‘em on board, together with eighty of his fiancées. What’s the quotation on fiancées, King Solomon?”
“Nothing,” said Solomon. “They’re not mine yet, and it’s their fathers’ business to get ‘em back. Not mine.”
Other subscriptions came pouring in, and it was not long before everybody save Shylock had put his name down for something. This some one of the more quick-witted of the spirits soon observed, and, with reckless disregard of the feelings of the Merchant of Venice, began to call: “Shylock! Shylock! How much?”
The Merchant tried to leave the pier, but his path was blocked.