The best of the joke was, that the rogue, as I well know, had for many a year past been dabbling in literature, and often had I enjoyed a quiet laugh when reading an article from his pen.
“Well, perhaps some day I’ll try,” said he, demurely.
“Hillo! what can the fellow be wanting?” exclaimed Porpoise, interrupting our talking (I won’t call it conversation).
We all turned our eyes in the direction in which he was looking. The brig had lowered a boat, which with rapid strokes was pulling towards us.
“She seems to have a good many hands in her,” he added, holding his glass to his eye. “I don’t quite like the look of her.”
“Nor do I either, I confess,” said I. “There are some craft in this sea not altogether honest, we must remember, though they are generally met with higher up towards the Levant.”
“What ought we to do, then?” asked Hearty.
“Just serve out the cutlasses and pistols, and cast the guns loose,” said Porpoise. “Tell the people to keep an eye on the strangers, and if more than two or three attempt to come on board, to tumble them into their boat again. There’s not the slightest danger if we put on a bold front, but if we are caught napping, I would not be answerable for the consequences.”