“But we want to speak to you.”
“Sheer off, I tell you,” bellowed the frightened captain of the schooner, “or I’ll run you down!”
“Lay that old tub to, or I’ll send a couple of musket shot into your hide,” shouted the voice threateningly.
“He’ll be aboard of us in a minute,” cried the captain.
“Have you any arms on board?” asked Ethan quietly, as he looked to the priming of his pistols and slipped his sword in and out of the scabbard to assure himself that it was free.
“A couple of cutlasses and pikes,” said the skipper; “and a brace of pistols in the cabin.”
“Then get them on deck if ye love me,” cried Longsword. “These are a couple of stout looking lads ye have here, and wid a few feet of cold steel in their fists they ought to do good work.”
As the sides of the two vessels ground together the weapons were produced. Ethan and the Irish dragoon stationed themselves in the waist, the mate took two men armed with long handled pikes into the bow, while the captain and three others were left to defend the after deck.
No sooner had they reached these positions overlooking the shallop than a grapple was thrown aboard and fastened the two craft together.
“Bad luck to him for an impudent villain,” growled Longsword, “but he goes about it in workmanlike style.”