"Do you presume to give any orders here what don't agree with mine?"
"No, sir," said Trunnell.
"Well, just let me hint to you, you bushy-headed little brute, that I don't want any suggestions from my mates, see? You little snipe, you! what d'ye mean, anyhow, by saying what we'll do?"
Several men standing on the poop to keep clear of the seas in the waist, hitched their trousers a little, and felt for the sheath knives in their belts. I noticed Jim, the young landsman, pass his hand behind him and stand waiting. There was an ominous silence and watchfulness among the crew which was not lost on the captain. He had inspired no respect in their minds as a sailor, even though he had shown himself fearless. It was evident that they were with Trunnell.
"I meant that we would stand by that ship as long as she floated," said the little mate, looking straight into the pistol barrel, "and I expected that it would be by your orders, sir."
Thompson was not a fool. He saw in an instant how the case was, and his glinting eyes took in the whole outfit of men and mates at one glance. He may not have wished to help the strangers, but he saw that not to do so meant more trouble to himself than if he did.
"This time you expected just right, Trunnell. I mean to stand by those people, and I order you to get ropes ready to hoist out the boat we have on the house, there. What I don't want and won't have is orders suggested by any one aboard here but me. I'm glad you didn't mean to do that, for I'd hate to kill you. You can get the boat ready."
Then he put the revolver back into his pocket, and Trunnell went forward along the shelter of the weather bulwarks and made ready the tackles for hoisting the boat out.
By the aid of the powerful glass I made out a figure of a woman standing upon the ship's poop. She appeared to be watching us intently. Soon a little sailorly and seaman-like fellow named Ford, whose interest in the strange ship was marked, came from the group near the mizzen and asked if he should get the signal halyards ready. Thompson made no objection, and we bent on the flags which told by the code that we would stand by them until the sea went down enough to get out a small boat.
At seven bells the "doctor" managed to get some fire started in the galley, and all hands had a drink of hot coffee. This was cheering, and Trunnell soon had the watch hard at work getting out new canvas from the lazaretto aft. The main deck was getting safer, and although she took the sea heavily now and then, she was no longer like a half-tide rock in a strong current.