“Scoundrels that you are, you may all sink with us before I’ll take charge of the ship while the rightful commander remains alive,” said Carlingford.
They then applied to Raymond, who was known to be a good navigator. His reply was of the same nature. None of the temptations the mutineers could hold out would induce an officer of any rank acquainted with navigation to take command. A consultation was then held, and after some time the mutineers approached the cabin where Waymouth lay. The light of a lantern flashed on his eyes, and, the door opening, Hagger, Soper, and other mutineers stood before him.
“What is your pleasure with me, knaves?” he asked in a haughty, undaunted tone.
“An’ please your honour, the ship is driving we know not where, and is like to strike on some strange rock or island, if she go not down first,” said Hagger, holding his hat in his hand.
“Maybe: it is what I expected,” answered Waymouth calmly. “When fools take the helm, they are certain to steer to destruction.”
“An’ please your honour, we wish to know whether you will please to take charge of the ship, and save her and all on board,” said Soper humbly.
“Likely enough—to have my throat cut, and the throats of the gentlemen with me, by you mutinous varlets, when you find the ship in safety,” answered Waymouth. “No, knaves; you have brought yourselves into this strait, and you may get out of it as best you may.”
“If your honour will take command and save the ship, and overlook our conduct, we will be obedient in future,” said Soper, who acted as spokesman.
“Seize that man, then, and put him in irons first,” answered Waymouth, casting his glance on Hagger, who clapped his hand on his hanger, as if about to defend himself, but the rest threw themselves on him, and bore him in spite of his great strength to the deck.