"A most uncomfortable style of acquaintance," said Corrie, trying to look wise, which was an utterly futile effort, seeing that his countenance was fat and round and rosy, and very much the reverse of philosophical. "But how do you know that the grampus is not the pirate?"
"Because he is one of Gascoyne's men."
"Oh! his name is Gascoyne, is it?—a most piratical name it is. However, since he is your friend, Henry, it's all right; what's t'other's name?"
"Bumpus—John Bumpus."
On hearing this, the boy clapped both hands to his sides, expanded his eyes and mouth, showed his teeth, and finally gave vent to roars of uncontrollable laughter, swaying his body about the while as if in agony.
"Oh dear!" he cried, after a time, "John Bumpus, ha! ha! the grampus—why, it's magnicicent, ha! ha!" and again the boy gave free vent to his merriment, while his companion looked on with a quiet grin of amusement.
Presently Corrie became grave, and said, "But what of the third, the little chap, all over gold lace? P'r'aps he's the pirate. He looked bold enough a'most for any thing."
"Why, you goose, that's the commander of his Britannic Majesty's frigate Talisman."
"Indeed? I hope his Britannic Majesty has many more like him."
"Plenty more like him. But come, boy; what have you heard of this pirate, and what do you mean about a wounded nigger?"