“I’d very much prefer it were Simpson himself, if it comes to a fight; but of course that is out of the question on board; it would not do for the first officer upon an American sloop-of-war to engage in a fracas with a passenger; Captain Jones would not permit it.”
As they were, shortly afterward, about to go below for the night, Shamus laid his hand upon Ethan’s arm.
“Master Ethan,” said he, “I’m going to tell ye something that will surprise ye.”
Ethan looked into the grim, scarred face of Longsword and was astonished to see that it was anxious and troubled looking.
“What is it?” he asked.
“In the second dog-watch I came on deck,” said the Irishman, “and the first person me two eyes fell upon as I took me foot from the top step of the ladder was—guess?”
“I can’t.”
“It was the brown man that listened at the window.”
“Impossible!”
“That’s what I should have said meself, jewel, if I hadn’t seen him as plain as day. And he had the crooked knife in his belt that I imagined him wid the other night on the Island Queen.”