The British tar was not slow to return the compliment with a grasp that was still less childlike—at the same time he gasped in much anxiety—
“Howld on, ye spalpeen, it’s after yersilf I’ve come, sure; what, won’t ye let go—eh?”
It was quite evident, from the tightening of the grip, that Mariano had no intention of letting go, for the good reason that, not understanding a word of what was said, he regarded the seaman as an enemy. Feeling rather than seeing this, for the hole was deep and dark, Flaggan was under the necessity of showing fight in earnest, and there is no saying what would have been the result had not Lucien suddenly appeared from the interior of a subterranean cavern with which the hole communicated.
Lucien understood English well and spoke it fluently. One or two of Flaggan’s exclamations enlightened him as to the true character of their unexpected visitor.
“Hold, Mariano!” he cried; “the man is evidently a friend.”
“What’s that ye’re saying?” cried Flaggan, looking up, for he was still busy attempting to throttle Mariano.
“I tell my brother that you are a friend,” said Lucien, scarce able to restrain laughter.
“Faix, then, it don’t look like it from the tratement I resaive at yer hands.—Howsoever,” said the seaman, relaxing his grip and rising, while Mariano did the same, “it’s well for you that I am. Bacri sent me wid a few words o’ comfort to ’ee, an’ some purvisions, which I raither fear we’ve bin tramplin’ about in the dirt; but—no, here it is,” he added, picking up the wallet, which had come off in the struggle, “all right, an’ I make no doubt it’ll be of use to ’ee. But it’s a poor sort o’ lodgin’ ye’ve got here: wouldn’t it be better for all parties if we was to go on deck?”
“Not so,” said Lucien, with a smile, as he fell in with the seaman’s humour. “’Twere better to come to our cabin; this is only the hold of our ship.—Follow me.”
So saying he went down on his hands and knees and disappeared in an impenetrably dark hole, not three feet high, which opened off the hole in which they stood.