As he said this the captain set his teeth, clenched his fists, and darted out of the room.
“Oh! George! Stop him! do stop him. He’s so violent! He’ll do something dreadful!” said Aunt Martha.
“Will no one call out murder?” groaned Aunt Jane, with a shudder.
As no one, however, ventured to check Captain Dunning, he reached the door, and confronted a rough, big, burly sailor, who stood outside with a free-and-easy expression of countenance, and his hands in his trousers pockets.
“Why don’t you go away when you’re told, eh?” shouted the captain.
“’Cause I won’t,” answered the man coolly.
The captain stepped close up, but the sailor stood his ground and grinned.
“Now, my lad, if you don’t up anchor and make sail right away, I’ll knock in your daylights.”
“No, you won’t do nothin’ o’ the kind, old gen’lem’n; but you’ll double-reef your temper, and listen to wot I’ve got to say; for it’s very partikler, an’ won’t keep long without spilin’.”
“What have you got to say, then?” said the captain, becoming interested, but still feeling nettled at the interruption.