"What are you about, Don John?" roared Laud Cavendish, who had seen the approaching skiff, but had not chosen to hail her.
"What are you about?" demanded Donald, answering the question with another, Yankee fashion, as he jammed his boat-hook into the side of the Juno, and drew the skiff up to the yacht, from which it had receded.
Taking the painter, he jumped on the forward deck of the Juno, with the boat-hook still in his hand.
"What do you mean by smashing into me in that kind of style, and jabbing your boat-hook into the side of my boat?" cried Laud, as fiercely as he could pitch his tones, though there seemed to be a want of vim to them.
"What do you mean by setting the Maud afire?" demanded Donald. "That's what I want to know."
"Who set her afire?" replied Laud, in rather hollow tones.
"You did, you miserable spindle-shanks!"
"I didn't set her afire, Don John," protested Laud.
"Yes, you did! I can prove it, and I will prove it, too."
"You are excited, Don John. You don't know what you are talking about."