"Besides, man alive! six Bermuda planters and their families! They all expect that you're going to make 'em walk the plank."
"That's jest what we'll do!" replied Captain Avery. "We'll cut their throats first, to make 'em stop their music. I'll tell you what, though. I've a lot of English fellers that I want to get rid of. No use to me. You can have 'em, if you'll be good. Captain McGrew, fetch your men over into this 'ere 'Mudian! I don't want her."
"All right! We're coming!" called back the suddenly delighted ex-skipper of the Spencer. "What luck this is!"
"Now, Captain Keller," said Avery, "we'll search for cash and anything else we want. Are you leakin'?"
"No," said the Englishman, "we're tight enough. We were damaged in a gale, that's all. There's one of our convoy, off to looard,—the old Solway. She lost a stick, too."
"We won't hurt her," said Avery. "What did that old woman yell for?"
"Why," said Keller, "one o' those younkers told her you meant to burn the ship and sell her to the Turks. But the best part of our cargo, for your taking, is coming up from the hold."
The two grim old salts perfectly understood each other's dry humor, and Keller's orders had been given without waiting for explanations.
"Hullo!" said Avery. "Well, yes, I'd say so! There they come! How many of 'em?"
"Forty-seven miserable Yankees," said Keller. "The Solway took 'em out of a Baltimore clipper and another rebel boat. She stuck 'em in on us to relieve her own hold. They were to be distributed 'mong the Channel fleet, maybe. You may have 'em all. It's a kind of fair trade, I'd say."