Then Andrew heard himself saying, "Damn you! Damn you all!" in a hurried whisper, as the effigies came into sight. There were two of them, great lolling dummies of straw, absurdly garbed, borne high on the shoulders of the crowd. They had halters around their necks, before them marched a man with a butcherlike face, dressed in hangman's black. A rope was slung over his arm and he carried a placard on a pole--"Death to all traitors!" in Spanish and English. There were other placards in the crowd, and two signs flapped at the bellies of the dummies. Andrew could make them out now, "Jackie Hancock"--"Sammy Adams"-- A gratified whoop went up from the crowd at the sight of the dummies. A big, sweating woman with a large pink chamberpot in her hand skipped nimbly out of the crowd and flung the contents of the vessel in the face of the dummy marked "Adams," with a shrill, joyous scream, splattering its bearers. Andrew wrenched himself loose from Captain Stout's hand. "Stop it--stop it--you Spanish bastards--" he was crying, with tears of rage in his eyes. He saw a thousand grinning faces turned toward him, and struck at the nearest wildly, fighting and going down. 10. A young man with a newly-broken head lay in a tossing bunk in the cabin of a ship at sea, and began to feel the first qualms of seasickness taint his relative content. He stirred, and said as much. "Means you've come out of it nicely," said Captain Stout, bending over him. "You'll be pleased to know, Mr. Beard--the man that hit you with the stick'll carry a thick ear some time yet," he added. "I acted like a fool," said Andrew. "I don't see how you got away. But I couldn't stand the woman." "There," said the Captain, soothingly. "It's natteral. Young blood's hot. I wasn't too pleased," he went on. "No, we wasn't any of us too pleased with the goings on. Told 'em you were one of my crew with a touch of sun. They swallowed it. I wanted to tell them something else. But you'll thank your Spanish friend--I couldn't have got you off alone--let alone talk their jabber fast enough--" "What happened to him?" said Andrew feebly. "He's here." The Captain chuckled. "Ain't you, Spanish?" "_Si señor_," came a voice from the upper bunk. "But sick as a soldier. How are you, my friend?" "Much as you are," said Andrew, and laughed. "I'm glad you're here, Sebastian." "_Gracias_," said the voice from above. "We changed knives--I follow my knife. Besides," he added, after a moment, "I, too, have a certain desire to help the donkey we spoke of kick off his rider. The rider wears too red a coat to suit me." "What about you, Captain?" said Andrew, after a pause. "Oh, we're all liberty-boys, now," said the Captain, with a casual chuckle. "Didn't say so before, you being your father's son; but we're all liberty-boys on the Pride now--if I didn't tell the Governor. Lord, I thought he'd have me a dozen times, but I never saw a soldier that wasn't a turniphead."