“Ship ahoy!” shouted Scrumpydike, putting his mouth near the wall.
“What cheer?” was answered in a low voice from within.
“Death and gold!” was the strange reply; immediately after which, bolts were heard quickly drawn, and the wall, or rather a door made to resemble the wall in which it was placed opened, and a stout, active man of a fierce aspect, clad in coarse jacket and trowsers, without shoes or cap, carrying a naked cutlass in his hand, and wearing several large pistols in his belt, became visible by the light of a torch that burned stuck upright in the ground beside him. Without another word Log and Scrumpydike entered. The door was quickly closed, the bolts set, and the man, taking up the torch, preceded them through a long passage or cellar, till they were stopped by the brickwork.
“Ship ahoy!” shouted the man.
“What cheer?” was answered from within.
“Death and gold!” he replied. In an instant another door opened, the man turned back, and the captain’s clerk, and his companion were admitted into a long subterranean chamber, in which the many torches that were burning enabled them to distinguish the figures of about twenty men, dressed like sailors, all variously armed, seated round a large table covered with drinking vessels. Immediately Scrumpydike made his appearance, the whole party set up a loud shout of welcome, and in a moment they were all crowding round him, shaking hands, asking questions, and offering him refreshment.
“Ha! let us stow in a cargo o’ some sort or other,” said the sailor, seating himself before what appeared to be the remains of a roast kid, and proceeding to help himself. “I’ve had a desperate long cruise here. Come, master Log, bear a hand:” a command the captain’s clerk was not slow in executing. “And so you’d given me up, ey? never made a worser recknin; scrunch me if I arnt a got more lives nor a cat. But the best of the joke is,” said he taking a hearty draught from a can of liquor which was handed to him, and which example was immediately followed by his companion; “the best o’ the joke is—but you’ll think I’m gammonin’ ye—I knows you will. The joke is—I’ve been livin’ in the most honestest way you ever heard on.”
The whole party raised a shout of incredulity, and laughed in derision at such an idea.
“I know’d how it would be—I was afear’d I should lose my precious character,” remarked the man gloomily; “but master Log can tell ye as how I ha’ been for a matter o’ two or three months most abominably honest,—arn’t I master Log?”