Flattered by this shot of Maria’s, the captain said that nothing ever gave him more pleasure than to oblige the ladies; and if the favour they intended to ask was not utterly incompatible with his duty, that he would grant it.
“Well, then,” said Judy, “will your honour give me back Pat Flannagan, that you have pressed just now?”
The captain shook his head.
“He’s no sailor, your honour, but a poor bog-trotter; and he will never do you any good.”
The captain again shook his head. “Ask me anything else,” said he, “and I will give it you.”
“Well, then,” said Maria, “give us Phelim O’Shaughnessy.”
The captain was equally inflexible.
“Come, come, your honour,” said Judy, “we must not stand upon trifles now-a-days. I’ll give you a kiss if you give me back Pat Flannagan.”
“And I another,” said Maria, “for Phelim.”
The captain had one seated on each side of him; his head turned like a dog-vane in a gale of wind. He did not know which to begin with; the most ineffable good humour danced in his eyes; and the ladies saw at once the day was their own. Such is the power of beauty, that this lord of the ocean was fain to strike to it. Judy laid a kiss on his right cheek; Maria matched it on his left; and the captain was the happiest of mortals. “Well, then,” said he, “you have your wish; take your two men, for I am in a hurry to make sail.”