Part 66 (2/2)
”And what would tough old Black Beard have said,” answered his companion, ”if they had expected to keep them to themselves? They deserve to be made to walk the plank for their impudence; or to be tied back to back and set a-diving, and I care not how soon.”
”Ay, but who is to command the s.h.i.+p, then?” said Hawkins.
”Why, what ails you at old Goffe?” answered Derrick.
”Why, he has sucked the monkey so long and so often,” said the Boatswain, ”that the best of him is buffed. He is little better than an old woman when he is sober, and he is roaring mad when he is drunk--we have had enough of Goffe.”
”Why, then, what d'ye say to yourself, or to me, Boatswain?” demanded the Quarter-master. ”I am content to toss up for it.”
”Rot it, no,” answered the Boatswain, after a moment's consideration; ”if we were within reach of the trade-winds, we might either of us make a s.h.i.+ft; but it will take all Cleveland's navigation to get us there; and so, I think, there is nothing like Bunce's project for the present.
Hark, he calls for the boat--I must go on deck and have her lowered for his honour, d----n his eyes.”
The boat was lowered accordingly, made its voyage up the lake with safety, and landed Bunce within a few hundred yards of the old mansion-house of Stennis. Upon arriving in front of the house, he found that hasty measures had been taken to put it in a state of defence, the lower windows being barricaded, with places left for use of musketry, and a s.h.i.+p-gun being placed so as to command the entrance, which was besides guarded by two sentinels. Bunce demanded admission at the gate, which was briefly and unceremoniously refused, with an exhortation to him, at the same time, to be gone about his business before worse came of it. As he continued, however, importunately to insist on seeing some one of the family, and stated his business to be of the most urgent nature, Claud Halcro at length appeared, and, with more peevishness than belonged to his usual manner, that admirer of glorious John expostulated with his old acquaintance upon his pertinacious folly.
”You are,” he said, ”like foolish moths fluttering about a candle, which is sure at last to consume you.”
”And you,” said Bunce, ”are a set of stingless drones, whom we can smoke out of your defences at our pleasure, with half-a-dozen of hand-grenades.”
”Smoke a fool's head!” said Halcro; ”take my advice, and mind your own matters, or there will be those upon you will smoke you to purpose.
Either begone, or tell me in two words what you want; for you are like to receive no welcome here save from a blunderbuss. We are men enough of ourselves; and here is young Mordaunt Mertoun come from Hoy, whom your Captain so nearly murdered.”
”Tush, man,” said Bunce, ”he did but let out a little malapert blood.”
”We want no such phlebotomy here,” said Claud Halcro; ”and, besides, your patient turns out to be nearer allied to us than either you or we thought of; so you may think how little welcome the Captain or any of his crew are like to be here.”
”Well; but what if I bring money for the stores sent on board?”
”Keep it till it is asked of you,” said Halcro. ”There are two bad paymasters--he that pays too soon, and he that does not pay at all.”
”Well, then, let me at least give our thanks to the donor,” said Bunce.
”Keep them, too, till they are asked for,” answered the poet.
”So this is all the welcome I have of you for old acquaintance' sake?”
said Bunce.
”Why, what can I do for you, Master Altamont?” said Halcro, somewhat moved.--”If young Mordaunt had had his own will, he would have welcomed you with 'the red Burgundy, Number a thousand.' For G.o.d's sake begone, else the stage direction will be, Enter guard, and seize Altamont.”
”I will not give you the trouble,” said Bunce, ”but will make my exit instantly.--Stay a moment--I had almost forgot that I have a slip of paper for the tallest of your girls there--Minna, ay, Minna is her name.
It is a farewell from Captain Cleveland--you cannot refuse to give it her?”
”Ah, poor fellow!” said Halcro--”I comprehend--I comprehend--Farewell, fair Armida--
”Mid pikes and 'mid bullets, 'mid tempests and fire, The danger is less than in hopeless desire!'
Tell me but this--is there poetry in it?”
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