“Silence, Joe Tonkin!” cried Jim Cuttance, in a tone that at once subdued the man.
Oliver, whose eyes had flashed like those of a tiger, drew himself up, and said— “Look at me, lads; I have no desire to boast of what I can or will do, but I assure you it would be as easy to turn back the rising tide as to force me to fight against my will—except, indeed, with yourselves. As I have said, I owe my life to your leader, and apparently have been the innocent means of drawing his enemies upon him. Gratitude tells me to help him if I can, and help him will if the cause be not a bad one.”
“Well spoken, sur,” said the leader, with an approving nod; “see to the weapons, Maggot, and I’ll explain it all to the gentleman.”
So saying, he too Oliver aside, told him hurriedly that the men who ere expected to attack them were fishermen belonging to a neighbouring cove, whose mackerel nets had been accidentally cut by his boat some weeks ago, and who were bent on revenge, not believing that the thing had been done by accident.
“But surely you don’t mean to use fire-arms against them in such a quarrel?” said Oliver.
A sort of humorous smile crossed the swarthy countenance of the man as he replied—
“They will use pistols against we.”
“Be that as it may,” said Oliver; “I will never consent to risk taking the life of a countryman in such a cause.”
“But you can’t fight without a weapon,” said the man; “and sure, if ’ee don’t shut them they’ll shut you.”
“No matter, I’ll take my chance,” said Oliver; “my good cudgel would have served me well enough, but it seems to have been swept away by the sea. Here, however, is a weapon that will suit me admirably,” he added, picking up a heavy piece of driftwood that lay at his feet.