“I see you have boats there, which is fortunate, for I wish to be set across the water at once,” I said, on his entry.
“That is impossible, your honour; it is too late.”
“Nonsense, my man. There is for a bottle of your best, and enough to make up to you my not remaining overnight. I must set off at once!”
“But, your honour, it can't be done. No boat is allowed to cross after sunset. The frigate lying there is for no other purpose than to prevent it. 'Tis on account of the smuggling.”
“Don't talk such rank nonsense to me, sir. Do I look like a smuggler?”
“No, your honour, you do not, so far as I can judge.”
“Then come, my man, I must be put across.”
“Oh, sir, 'tis of no use; I should be a ruined man,” cried the poor-spirited creature, almost snivelling.
Seeing this, I tried him on a new tack. “You scoundrel!” said I, laying my hand on my sword and advancing towards him threateningly, “if you fail to have me on my way before half an hour is over, I'll pink the soul out of you.”
“Oh Lord, sir, have a care what you do!” he shrieked in terror, and before I could intercept him he had thrown open the door into the adjoining room, where three officers sat at their wine before the fire.