"I trust Miss Noble has told you," said I, "how it happens that I was on board this vessel on the night of her abduction?"
"Yes," he answered, still continuing to examine the vessel curiously, now looking aloft, now forward, now aft, as though he could not take too complete a view of the craft. "Yes, she told me. The scoundrels! Thank God! I shot one of 'em. I would have shot 'em all, but the ruffians stood over me and my son with naked cutlasses and loaded pistols."
"I hope they did not burn the house down?"
"No, we extinguished the fire. Fifteen hundred pounds' worth of damage—that's all!" He made a cut through the air with his stick, exclaiming: "The rogues! the villains! They took me unaware. So many of them, too! How many were there?"
"Two Spaniards," said I, "the master of this schooner, and four seamen. You were attacked by seven."
"Seven!" he cried. "Seven against two! for as to my coachman and footman—what do you think? They drove away—by heavens! they lashed the horses and bolted! I should like to go below; I should like to examine this blackguard craft. A fine, stout vessel all the same. A pirate in her day, no doubt."
We descended into the cabin, which he at once made the round of, peering at the pictures, staring at the looking-glasses, examining the chairs, as though he were in a museum and every object was extraordinarily curious.
"And pray, how is Miss Noble, sir?" said I. "I have not seen her since Tuesday."
"Very well; wonderfully well," he answered.
"How do you find her in looks after her terrible experience?"