To my surprise, not a man crossed over to the larboard, but with one accord all stepped briskly and resolutely to the starboard side.
"What's this I see?" shouted Captain Jeremy.
"Do you want to cruise single-handed? Are you afraid that, against my word, your shares will go down? Do I scent mutiny aboard the Golden Hope? Bestir yourselves, my hearties!"
"'Tain't neither, Cap'n," replied one of the men, Tom Cherry by name. He had been one of the Captain's comrades in the cave, and was a stanch, honest fellow. "We'll all go if you gives the word, but we don't want you to think as 'ow we wants to leave you."
"You won't be leaving me; it's the Golden Hope you're leaving, to join a consort under my orders. I thank you all for your expression of loyalty, but as some of you must ship aboard the Neptune we'll leave it to chance. Master Touchstone, do you draw the men into two ranks."
Thereupon the crew took up their position, fifty-one all told, for Captain 'Enery and the master gunner were, with Captain Miles and me on the poop.
"Down you go, Master Clifford, and pick out a man at random," said our Captain; and, descending the poop ladder, I walked between two rows of as fine a set of men as ever served afloat.
"Fall out, you," ordered Captain Jeremy, as I touched a smart lower-yard man on the shoulder.
"Now, count out every seventh man."
"There you are, Captain 'Enery," he continued, when the counting out was completed; "a proper crew for you, and no favouritism. I trust they'll do you credit. Now, lads, there's no time to be lost, so dismiss and pack up your traps."