"Yes," returned the other mournfully, "but if you release the captain, and me with him, what is to become of me?"
"I don't know," returned the corsair-chief, shrugging his shoulders.
Skyrme laughed aloud. "That's a splendid joke!"
"For heaven's sake! What shall I say to you?" stammered Scudamore, throwing himself at Barthelemy's feet. "Oh, gentlemen, don't leave me in this man's power, he will have no mercy on me. He is a horrible villain."
"Ha! ha! ha!" cried Skyrme. "Don't spoil this joke, captain. When you set the commander of the brigantine free, let him take this fellow with him; what a fine lot of talk there will be when they call him to account at home for the service he has rendered us."
"Gentlemen! Brave men!" shrieked Scudamore clasping Barthelemy's knees. "Surely you are only jesting with me. It amuses you to drive me to desperation in this way, but you will not really ruin me. You cannot forget that I have rendered you an important service, and shall perform still more. I am a physician; you need one, take me with you. I will be just such a man, such a devil as all the rest, I'll be no disgrace to your band. You will never repent having made my acquaintance. I beseech, I implore you to say a good word to the captain for me. Oh, you good, brave man, you leader with the face of a hero, give me your hand, that I may kiss it."
"Rise," said Barthelemy curtly. "We do need a surgeon, I'll take you."
"What! a surgeon among us!" growled Moody, who was still bound to the mast, "a surgeon who, whenever one of our band is wounded in the hand or foot, will cut it off? A living human saw? A poisoner, who won't let a man die in peace? I've no use for him. Throw him out of the ship, or I'll kill him."
"Not another word, Moody!" cried Barthelemy. "It is my wish, and so it shall be. You manage the ropes and sails, but you need not trouble yourself about anything else."
"I beg you, sir," said Scudamore, "not to vex our valiant captain, you seem to be such a worthy man, I know I shall have the warmest regard for you."