'No—they're wuss—they're Jarmans!' answered Jacob, spitting fiercely.
On a sudden the fellow who was aft nodded at us, then kissed his hand, solemnly dismounted, and vanished, leaving no one in sight but the man forward, who a minute later disappeared also.
Abraham drew a deep breath, and looked at me. His countenance suddenly changed. His face crimsoned with temper, and with a strange, ungainly, 'longshore plunge he sprang on top of the gunwale, supporting himself by a grip of the burton of the mizzenmast with one hand while he shook his other fist in a very ecstasy of passion at the retreating vessel.
'Call yourselves men!' he roared. 'I'll have the law along of ye! It'll be me as'll report ye! Don't think as I can't spell. HANSA—Hansa. There it is, wrote big as life on your blooming starn! I'll remember ye! You sausage-eaters!—you scow-bankers—you scaramouches!—you varmint! Call yourselves sailors? Only gi' me a chance of getting alongside!'
He continued to rage in this fashion, interlarding his language with words which sent Helga to the boat's side, and held her there with averted face; but, all the same, it was impossible to keep one's gravity. Vexed, maddened, indeed, as I was by the disappointment, it was as much as I could do to hold my countenance. The absurdity lay in this raving at a vessel that had passed swiftly out of hearing, and upon whose deck not a living soul was visible.
Having exhausted all that he was able to think of in the way of abuse, Abraham dismounted, flung his cap into the bottom of the boat, and, drying his brow by passing the whole length of his arm along it, he exclaimed:
'There!—now I've given 'em something to think of!'
'Why, there was ne'er a soul to hear a word ye said,' exclaimed Thomas, who was still busy at the stove, without looking up.
'See here!' shouted Abraham, rounding upon him with the heat of a man glad of another excuse to quarrel. 'Dorn't you have nothen to say. No sarce from you, and so I tells ye! I know all about ye. When did ye pay your rent last, eh? Answer me that!' he sneered.
'Oh, that's it, is it? that's the time o' day, eh?' growled Thomas, looking slowly but fiercely round upon Abraham, and stolidly rising into a menacing posture, that was made wholly ridiculous by the clergyman's coat he wore. 'And what's my rent got to do with you? 'T all events, if I am a bit behoind hand in my rent, moy farder was never locked up for six months.'