“I’ll smash him—Jack!”
“Yer honour?”
“Get into the chaise again.”
“Well, but where’s Master Charles? Lawyers, in course, sir, is all blessed rogues; but, howsomdever, he may have for once in his life this here one of ’em have told us of the right channel, and if so be as he has, don’t be the Yankee to leave him among the pirates. I’m ashamed on you.”
“You infernal scoundrel; how dare you preach to me in such a way, you lubberly rascal?”
“Cos you desarves it.”
“Mutiny—mutiny—by Jove! Jack, I’ll have you put in irons—you’re a scoundrel, and no seaman.”
“No seaman!—no seaman!”
“Not a bit of one.”
“Very good. It’s time, then, as I was off the purser’s books. Good bye to you; I only hopes as you may get a better seaman to stick to you and be your walley de sham nor Jack Pringle, that’s all the harm I wish you. You didn’t call me no seaman in the Bay of Corfu, when the bullets were scuttling our nobs.”
“Jack, you rascal, give us your fin. Come here, you d——d villain. You’ll leave me, will you?”
“Not if I know it.”
“Come in, then”
“Don’t tell me I’m no seaman. Call me a wagabone if you like, but don’t hurt my feelings. There I’m as tender as a baby, I am.—Don’t do it.”
“Confound you, who is doing it?”
“The devil.”
“Who is?”
“Don’t, then.”
Thus wrangling, they entered the inn, to the great amusement of several bystanders, who had collected to hear the altercation between them.
“Would you like a private room, sir?” said the landlord.
“What’s that to you?” said Jack.
“Hold your noise, will you?” cried his master. “Yes, I should like a private room, and some grog.”
“Strong as the devil!” put in Jack.
“Yes, sir-yes, sir. Good wines—good beds—good—”
“You said all that before, you know,” remarked Jack, as he bestowed upon the landlord another terrific dig in the ribs.
“Hilloa!” cried the admiral, “you can send for that infernal lawyer, Mister Landlord.”
“Mr. Crinkles, sir?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Who may I have the honour to say, sir, wants to see him?”
“Admiral Bell.”
“Certainly, admiral, certainly. You’ll find him a very conversible, nice, gentlemanly little man, sir.”
“And tell him as Jack Pringle is here, too,” cried the seaman.
“Oh, yes, yes—of course,” said the landlord, who was in such a state of confusion from the digs in the ribs he had received and the noise his guests had already made in his house, that, had he been suddenly put upon his oath, he would scarcely have liked to say which was the master and which was the man.
“The idea now, Jack,” said the admiral, “of coming all this way to see a lawyer.”
“Ay, ay, sir.”