As we loaded the guns for the last time, holding the fire in reserve, a voice broke upon our ears that had grown familiar of late.
“I wanter know! I wanter know! What the devil has happened around here, anyway?” it drawled. “Am I a soger, an’ this here a battlefield covered with blood and glory, or am I on a stinking slave-ship? That’s what’s worryin’ me.”
And then Shannon proceeded to pronounce the grossest possible things upon us.
CHAPTER XXVII.
OUR CAPTAIN
Captain Shannon had recovered and had tried to rise into a sitting position, but the lines upon him were none too softly drawn, and he found himself stiff as a mummy, being lashed from above his able elbows to his long and pointed shoes.
Mr. Curtis, who had arrived on deck in time to take part in the fracas, now insisted that our captive be set free on the promise that he would not attempt to either make further disturbances or go overboard.
“Disturbance! I wanter know,” said Shannon, “who’s the one makin’ the disturbance? Here I just politely hopped aboard your ole barque, an’ some gorilla in breeches nabs me by the mizzen and jest naturally stops my bazoo. Why didn’t ye finish the job instead o’ bringing me to again to swing me at your yard-arm.”
“We don’t intend to swing you,” said Curtis. “If you behave yourself, we’ll promise not to harm you until--until--”
“Until what, I wanter know?” said Shannon.
It was evident that Mr. Curtis had meant to say that he would deliver him over to the authorities of law and order at the first port touched, but, upon consideration, this seemed manifestly absurd. The Gentle Hand was not hunting authorities for law and order just at the time, and the matter must necessarily be settled by the parties interested, which, after all, is considered not unfair by most human beings who do not care to bother their neighbours with their personal affairs.