He repeated the hail through his speaking-trumpet at the request of the skipper, although it was evident that he held such an instrument in high disdain and deemed any artificial acceleration to his voice as entirely unnecessary.
Soon a faint answer came floating over the calm, moonlit waters.
“What d’ yer want?” it said.
“Stand off, or you’ll be afoul of us!” roared O’Toole.
“Go to ’ell!” came the response, clear and distinct. Then the quiet of the tropic night fell again upon the sea.
“What a brute!” exclaimed Mrs. Waters. “I wonder how a man can be so coarse and vulgar. What is the matter with him?”
“It’s a disease that afflicts a great many shipmasters, and it appears hard to cure,” I ventured. “It’s a—”
“Beggin’ your pardon,” interrupted O’Toole. “’Tis a disease I’ve had occasion t’ cure often enough, an’, by th’ faith, I’ve always seen it give way, most rapid like, before th’ inflooence av prayer, an’ th’ layin’ on av hands. I know av a case where a man—”
“By thunder!” snapped Crojack, suddenly, “if it falls as calm as this to-morrow I’ll go aboard that fellow and see who he is. Mr. O’Toole, you will be on deck in the morning, and I wish you to have one of the boats ready. I’ve sailed in most seas and have met all kinds of people, but for a real out an’ outer, with a loose jaw tackle, give me one of those swine-gutted, bull-headed, egotistical Englishmen in the Indian trade. Seems to me, though, I’ve heard that voice before.”
“It’s pretty hard to tell at this distance,” I answered, “but we’ll be able to find out very soon, for she’s drifting down on us all the time.”