This was said in a firm, although cool tone.
“What? do you imagine,” inquired the young officer, with scorn, “I am going to tell to a pirate what takes place on board a vessel in which I have the honor to serve? By Jove, no!—it is hard enough to be kidnapped by a set of rascals, without being asked to play traitor and spy, to boot. But—”
“Cease this nonsense,” interposed Lorenzo, “you waste time, answer me first, is Appadocca alive?”
“I shall not give you any information,” peevishly replied the young officer.
“I do not see,” remarked Lorenzo, mildly, and almost paternally, “I do not see that it can possibly affect your honor if you give me a very simple answer to a very simple question. I ask, if Emmanuel Appadocca is alive?”
“I shall answer you nothing,” said the midshipman, insultingly.
“Shall answer me nothing,” calmly echoed Lorenzo, while, like the still and steady terrors of an earthquake, the signs of anger were now fast gathering on his brow. He reflected a moment.
“Young man,” he said firmly, “men do not usually speak with negatives to me, or such as I am. You seem disposed to run great risks—risks, of the nature of which you are not, perhaps, aware. Let me caution you again; I put my former question,—is the captain of this schooner, who is now a prisoner on board the ship to which you belong, alive and safe?”
“I have said I shall answer none of your questions,” replied the midshipman, “trouble me no more.”
The pirate officer rose, and drew forth a massive gold watch.