“Pish,” quoth Jemmy, who was standing among them.

“Won’t he make it out mutiny?” observed Spurey.

“Mein Gott! it was mutiny to flog de officer,” said Jansen.

“That’s very true,” observed another.

“But Jemmy can’t stand against the fat corporal and the six marines,” observed Bill Spurey.

“One up and t’other down, I’ll take them all,” observed Jemmy, expanding his chest.

“Yes, but they’ll all be down upon you at once, Jemmy.”

“If they lays their hands upon an officer,” observed Coble, “it will be mutiny; and then Jemmy calls in the ship’s company to protect him.”

“Exactly,” observed Jemmy.

“And den, mein Gott, I zettle for de corporal,” observed Jansen.

“I’ll play him a trick yet.”

“But now, it’s no use palavering,” observed Spurey; “let’s come to some settlement.  Obadiah, give us your opinion as to what’s best to be done.”

Hereupon Coble squirted out a modicum of ’baccy juice, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and said, “It’s my opinion, that the best way of getting one man out of a scrape, is to get all the rest in it.  Jemmy, d’ye see, is to be hauled up for singing an old song, in which a wench very properly damns the admiral for sending a ship out on a Christmas-day, which, let alone the unchristian-like act, as you may know, my lads, always turns up on a Friday, a day on which nothing but being blown out from your anchors can warrant any vessel sailing on.  Now, d’ye see, it may be mutiny to damn a live admiral, with his flag hoisted—­I won’t say but what it is—­but this here admiral as Jemmy damned, is no more alive than a stock fish; and, moreover, it is not Jemmy as damns him, but Poll; therefore it can be no mutiny.  Now, what I consider best is this, if so be it be against the articles—­well, then, let’s all be in for it together, and then Vanslyperken will be puzzled, and, moreover, it will give him a hint how matters stand, and he may think better of it; for although we must not have Jemmy touched, still it’s quite as well not to have a regular breeze with the jollies; for if so be that the Scarborough, or any other king’s ship, be in port when we arrive, Vanslyperken may run under the guns, and then whip the whole boiling of us off to the Ingies, and glad to get us, too, and that’s no joke.  Now, that’s my idea of the matter.”

“Well, but you’ve not told us how we are all to get into it, Coble.”

“More I have—­well, that’s funny; left out the whole burden of my song.  Why, I consider that we had better now directly sing the song over again, all in chorus, and then we shall have damned the admiral a dozen times over; and Vanslyperken will hear us, and say to himself, ’They don’t sing that song for nothing.’  What do you say, Dick Short, you’re first hofficer?”

“Yes,” replied Short.

“Hurrah! my lads, then,” cried Bill Spurey; “now then, strike up, Jemmy, and let us give it lots of mouth.”