Without further answer, Nixon departed, rather disconcerted, as it seemed to Darsie.
‘That dog turns insolent and lazy,’ said Redgauntlet; but I must bear with him for a while.’
A moment after, Nixon returned with Ewart.
‘Is this the smuggling fellow?’ demanded Redgauntlet. Nixon nodded.
‘Is he sober now? he was brawling anon.’
‘Sober enough for business,’ said Nixon.
‘Well then, hark ye, Ewart;—man your boat with your best hands, and have her by the pier—get your other fellows on board the brig—if you have any cargo left, throw it overboard; it shall be all paid, five times over—and be ready for a start to Wales or the Hebrides, or perhaps for Sweden or Norway.’
Ewart answered sullenly enough, ‘Aye, aye, sir.’
‘Go with him, Nixon,’ said Redgauntlet, forcing himself to speak with some appearance of cordiality to the servant with whom he was offended; ‘see he does his duty.’
Ewart left the house sullenly, followed by Nixon. The sailor was just in that species of drunken humour which made him jealous, passionate, and troublesome, without showing any other disorder than that of irritability. As he walked towards the beach he kept muttering to himself, but in such a tone that his companion lost not a word, ‘Smuggling fellow—Aye, smuggler—and, start your cargo into the sea—and be ready to start for the Hebrides, or Sweden—or the devil, I suppose. Well, and what if I said in answer—Rebel, Jacobite—traitor; I’ll make you and your d——d confederates walk the plank—I have seen better men do it—half a score of a morning—when I was across the Line.’