"Never heard of her," said Captain Lingo calmly. "I'm a loyal subject of his Catholic Majesty King James the Second,—may all the saints defend him!"
"King James the Second!" cried Mr. Punch. "Why, 'e's been dead these two 'undred year, nearly! 'E's as dead as Christopher Columbus!"
Captain Lingo started violently, and his face became dark with anger.
"Dead? King James dead? Do you mark that, lads? He calls his blessed Majesty dead! Aha! thou renegade Englishman, thou hast imagined the death of the king! A felony, by St. George! And the punishment is death! What, thou reprobate, dost thou not know 'tis a felony, punishable by death, to imagine the death of the King?"
"But 'e is dead. One carn't live two 'undred years, you know."
"You hear!" said Captain Lingo, his voice quivering with rage. "He imagines the death of the King! Any judge in the kingdom would sentence him to die for that! 'Tis the law! But enough talk. Captain Lingo is not the man to stand by and see the law defied! For that, my pretty Englishman, thou shalt die the death twice over. There shall be violence in thy case. Thou shalt wish thou hadst never been born. Thou shalt be kept for the last. Ay, ay; there shall be fine sport at his taking off, eh, lads? Enough! Proceed with the ceremony. To imagine the death of the King! Ketch, art thou ready?"
"Ay, ay, Captain," said the Practitioner.
The captain cast his angry eye over the terrified group shivering in their damp garments. "One of you must be first. Who shall be first? Let me see." Each person quailed as the pirate's eye rested on him. "One moment. We will decide it by chance."
He plucked seven sprigs of grass, and broke them into varying lengths. He then held them in his hand so that only the even ends showed. "Now choose," said he. "The longest blade shall be first."