“Where you’ll be in a minute, my man,” said I, pulling out one of the two pistols I had pocketed; for I had not foreseen in the case of Meehan so easy a capture.
“There’s no need to show me that,” said the fellow in his small voice, nodding his head at the pistol, “I follows your meaning, and I’ll work as a good man if ye’ll take me on.”
“No, I won’t trust you. Not yet, anyhow; though I should be mighty glad to believe you trustworthy.”
“Try me, sir,” he exclaimed.
“No, by——! Jimmy, lay hold of that wheel and keep it steady. Call, get you forward,” and I pointed with my pistol to the forecastle.
He went like a lamb, and I followed at his heels. Indeed, I needed no weapon with this man; in strength I was twice his master; in nimbleness and the art of fisticuffs he was not within a league of my longest shadow. I could have tossed him by scruff and breech over the rail, and have drunk a pint with the same breath I did it in.
When we came to the scuttle, I told him to open it and descend. Meehan roared out, when he saw daylight; I answered that I would send a bullet through his brains if he made any noise, that his and Call’s wants should be seen to presently, and that I was going to sail the brig home to save the men who had been left with me from the gallows.
“Where’s Teach and Travers?” bawled Meehan.
“Dead—dead—dead!” I cried, then closed and secured the scuttle as before, and ran to the cabin.
I found my lady very much better. She had drunk a little brandy, and was eating a biscuit; the trembling had left her, and her face was steady.