“Goin’ to be long away?”
“Ho! yes, very long.”
“Where’s the little girl they took from Sarawak?”
“Gone away.”
“Where away?”
“Don’t know.”
“Now, look here, you old hag,” said the pirate, drawing a pistol from his belt and levelling it, “tell the truth about that girl, else I’ll scatter your brains on the floor. Where has she gone to?”
“Don’t know,” repeated Meerta, with a look of calm indifference, as she took up a tankard and wiped it out with a cloth.
The man steadied the pistol and pressed the trigger.
“You better wait till she has given us our grub,” quietly suggested one of the men.