"Oh, is that your notion?"
"Yes, and a very natural one, I think, too, Master Doctor, whatever you may think of it. Come, now, have you a better?"
"Oh, dear, no, certainly not; but I have a notion that something to eat would comfort the inward man much."
"And so would something to drink, blow me if it wouldn't," said Jack Pringle, suddenly making his appearance.
The admiral made a rush upon him; but he was restrained by the others, and Jack, with a look of triumph, said,—
"Why, what's amiss with you now? I ain't drunk now. Come, come, you have something dangerous in the wind, I know, so I've made up my mind to be in it, so don't put yourself out of the way. If you think I don't know all about it, you are mistaken, for I do. The vampyre is in the house yonder, and I'm the fellow to tackle him, I believe you, my boys."
"Good God!" said the doctor, "what shall we do?"
"Nothing," said Jack, as he took a bottle from his pocket and applied the neck of it to his lips—"nothing—nothing at all."
"There's something to begin with," said the admiral, as with his stick he gave the bottle a sudden blow that broke it and spilt all its contents, leaving Jack petrified, with the bit of the neck of it still in his mouth.
"My eye, admiral," he said, "was that done like a British seaman? My eye—was that the trick of a lubber, or of a thorough-going first-rater? first-rater? My eye—"