The older sailor relaxed his grasp, but availed himself of the opportunity which he now had, to whisper in the ears of the midshipman—
“Don’t attempt to crow too high here, shipmate, else you will get the worst of it, ’d’ye hear?”
And the old tar winked his eye to the young midshipman. The familiar sign of knowingness contrasted strangely with the terrible moustachios and beard with which Jim Splice had deemed it characteristic to ornament his homely and good-natured old face.
In the mean time all sail was set, and the man-of-war was left far behind. The sailors had now again posted themselves at their regular stations, and the ordinary quiet had now succeeded to the short excitement of making sail. The midshipman was still standing in the same spot where Lorenzo had left him. His anger, however, had evaporated to a considerable extent, under the wise prescription of leaving the angry man to himself, which Lorenzo was wise enough to make, and like all men who are not absolutely fools, the midshipman had thrown off as much as possible of that wasting and useless attendant—rage, as soon as his first impulses had somewhat subsided.
Instead of continuing in that dogged sulkiness, in which he had been left by Lorenzo, he was now examining, with an interested eye, the make, rigging, and equipment of the strange schooner.
It was at this moment that a steward approached him, and inquired if he was then at leisure to attend his master in his cabin, and led the way to the part of the vessel in which that was situated. The midshipman, without answering, followed. Lorenzo was already there, waiting for him. The officer politely stood, bowed to the stranger, pointed to a cabin chair: the midshipman seated himself.
“Before mentioning the business for which I have entrapped you, young gentleman,” said Lorenzo, “I must tell you, that you need be under no apprehension as long as you are on board this schooner, and that you shall receive the proper treatment that one gentleman owes to another, unless, it is understood, you force us, by your own conduct, to act otherwise than we usually do.”
“Gentleman! how dare you compare yourself to me, and call yourself a gentleman?” said the midshipman, with more of impulse than of reason.
Like one who has disciplined his mind to pursue his purposes with a stedfast straightness which is not to be diverted by any accident, though not, perhaps, without some disdain for the immoderation of the young man, the pirate officer heeded not his last remark, but proceeded as if he had not heard it.
“My purpose for enticing you on board this vessel, is to procure information about my chief, who is now a prisoner on board the ship to which you belong. You will be good enough to give clear and categorical answers to the questions which I shall put to you.”