“You stupid blockhead!” roared Mr. Bonnet, “how like an ass you have acted!  Not for a bag of gold would I have taken Ben Greenway on this cruise; and not for a dozen bags would I have deprived my family of his care and service.  You ought to be thrown into the sea!  Ben Greenway here!  Of all men in the world, Ben Greenway here!”

“I only thought to do you a service,” said Big Sam.

“Service!” shouted the angry Bonnet.  But as it was of no use to say anything more upon this subject, he ordered the sailing-master to send to him, first, Ben Greenway, and then to summon to him, no matter where they might be or what they might be doing, the whole crew.

The other, surprised at this order, objected that all of the men could not leave their posts, but Bonnet overruled him.

“Send me the whole of them, every man jack.  The fellow at the wheel will remain here and steer.  As for the rest, the ship will take care of itself for a space.”

“What can that old fool of a farmer intend to do?” said Big Sam, as he went away; “he is like a child with a toy, and wants to see his crew in a bunch.”

Presently came Ben Greenway in a smothered rage.

“An’ I suppose, sir,” said he without salutation, “that ye have gi’en orders about the care o’ the cows and the lot o’ poultry that I engaged to send to the town to-day?”

“Don’t mention cows or poultry to me!” cried Bonnet.  “I am a more angry man than you are, Ben Greenway, and as soon as I have time to attend to it, I shall look into this matter of your shutting up, and shall come down upon the wrongdoers like sheeted lightning.”

“What a fearful rage ye’re in, Master Bonnet,” said Ben.  “I never saw the like o’ it.  If ye’re really angrier than I am, I willna revile; leavin’ it to ye to do the revilin’ wha are so much better qualified.  An’ so it wasna accident that I was shut up in the ship’s pantry, leavin’ Mistress Kate to gang hame by hersel’, an’ to come out this mornin’ findin’ the ship at sea an’ ye in command?”

“Say no more, Ben,” cried Bonnet.  “I am more sorry to see you here than if you were any other man I know in this world.  But I cannot put you off now, nor can I talk further about it, being very much pressed with other matters.  Now here comes my crew.”

Ben Greenway retired a little, leaning against the rail.

“An’ this is his crew?” he muttered; “a lot o’ unkempt wild beasts, it strikes me.  Mayhap he has gathered them togither to convert their souls, an’ he is about to preach his first sermon to them.”

Now all the mariners of the Sarah Williams were assembled aft and Captain Bonnet was standing on his quarter-deck, looking out upon them.  He was dressed in a naval uniform, to which was added a broad red sash.  In his belt were two pairs of big pistols, and a stout sword hung by his side.  He folded his arms; he knitted his brows, and he gazed fiercely about to see if any one were absent, although if any one had been absent he would not have known it.  His eyes flashed, his cheeks were flushed, and it was plain enough to all that he had something important to say.