What had I to say? Well, I had considerable, and I told at some length how I had nothing whatever to do with Tim’s case.
“You may drop him overboard with a shot to each foot,” said Howard, as I finished. “Call away the gig, Mr. Hawkson. I’ll go over to the governor’s before he gets too warm to see any one.”
The whole scene, the entire lack of feeling, the disposing of our cases as though we were simply niggers, made an impression upon me that can hardly be described. Then the old pirate turned to his meal as though nothing had happened, and finished his coffee, while I was led forward.
“Keep a stiff neck, Heywood,” said the old privateersman, as we came on deck. “I believe you’re all right. I’ve heard something of this Renshaw before. He’s a feller of title, ye know, an’, if it wasn’t for that, I could save the little red-headed feller, too. But Sir John will insist on one o’ ye goin’. Blow the little chap from a gun? I’ll see he hears more o’ your story, an’, if worse comes from it, I’ll--well, never mind. There’s plenty o’ time between now and when the old man sees the governor. He won’t do anything without permission in port.”
“Don’t take any trouble on my account,” I said, angrily. “I’ve tried to clear fair enough, and would have gone but for Tim meeting his wife. I’d as soon stand in front as behind the guns of a slaver.”
“You’ll never have sense enough to stand anywhere, an’ that’s a fact,” growled Hawkson. “A good ship, a good crew, and plenty of profit in sight. D--n you, Heywood, I’ve a notion to take you at your word.”
His fierce eyes held an evil light that I knew boded no good, and his ugly mouth worked convulsively, showing his teeth. I was aware my case was not one to trifle with too freely, and concluded I would hold my tongue. He left me with an ugly sneer, and I went below attended by Mr. Gull, who eyed me savagely, and hustled me with such energy that I turned upon him.
“You want to bear a hand and remember that a live sailor is worth a couple of fool slavers,” said I. “It’ll pay you to be a bit more careful, Mr. Gull.”
“Shut up!” he answered, and hitched my shackle to the ceiling. Then he turned and left me without another word, while I cursed freely and fluently, with as much bitterness as a man can express in language.
It was very dark, and I knew nothing of what was going on above, although I noticed as I crossed the deck that the fore and main topsails were hanging up by their clews, all ready to sheet home, and above them the royals were also hanging loose. From this I gathered that there would be a start made very soon, and even as I wondered at our probable destination, I heard the distant clank and rattle of the windlass. Then I recognized the Doctor’s voice bawling the old refrain: