“Hilloa, you rogues!” said this stripling, as he stepped upon deck, “where do you hail from, to what port are you bound, and what have you on board?”
“From Java, and bound for Singapore, laden with birds’-nests,” was the reply.
“Laden with what?” asked the youngster, in astonishment.
“Birds’-nests,” replied Prabu, touching his cap, or rather the covering of his head; but the youngster—evidently a fresh arrival in those seas, and who had heard of no birds’-nests excepting those he had himself taken in his school-days—flew into a violent passion.
“You impudent rogue, do you dare to make fun of one of their high mightinesses’ officers?” he roared. “Birds’-nests, indeed! I’ll birds’-nest the lot of you—a precious greenhorn you must take me for!”
Now, I did not at all like the young man’s tone; still, knowing he possessed the power to cause us much annoyance, if he chose to use it, I went up to him, and touching my cap, as bound by etiquette to a naval officer, said:
“Indeed, it is true that we are only laden with birds’-nests.”
“Oh! you are putting a spoke in, are you? Who, pray, are you that speak Dutch, and are yet found among these rascally pirates?”
At these insulting words, Martin, who had less respect for their high mightinesses’ uniform than his elder brother, cried:
“Stand by, Claud. Come, Mr. Midshipman, for all that cocked hat and dirk of yours, you are exceeding your duty. You were not sent here to insult honest traders.”