"Through their hulks, do you mean?" inquired Jack Roupall, who had but just joined the party. "I don't pretend to speak grammar or book-English, Jack," retorted the young sailor, "no more than yourself; but all who have ever sailed in the Fire-fly, as both you and I have done, know her quality, and that anything can be made of her: I tell you, every beam of her timbers has life in it--every spar is a spirit!" "What sort of spirit?--Is it rum, brandy, or Hollands?" inquired Roupall, who could see no more value in the timbers of the Fire-fly than in those of any other ship that carried a good cargo. Springall's enthusiasm was wasted on him; but it was followed by a reply from the hot-headed lad that would have led to more than words, if another of the party had not interfered. "For shame, Spring, to be so fiery! Sure you know of old, that Jack will have his joke, and means no harm. Besides, he's only a land-lubber, after all." "Well, pepper away, brave boys! pepper away! I'll have my revenge on you all yet!" continued the trooper. "You won't inform, will you?" exclaimed Springall, ever ready for a fray, pushing his beardless face close to the weather-beaten countenance of sturdy Roupall. "Will you keep your face out of my mouth?" replied the man-mountain, stretching his jaws at the same time, and displaying a double row of the most enormous teeth, and a gulf which really looked as if it could contain the animated countenance of the young sailor, who, as easily moved to mirth as anger, burst into a merry laugh at the prospect before him. "There, boy," said the Goliath, "take it easy, and talk reason about the ship, and talk the reason reasonably, and I'll join ye; but Spring has a dash o' poetry about him--I think it's called poetry:--verse-making and verse-thinking, that never did anything in the way of ship-building or ship-saving since the world was a world, that I know. Now look, lads; here's a man-a-war, a heavy, sluggish thing, whose guns could take no effect on the Fire-fly, because their shot would go right over her, and only anger the waters. Her long boats, to be sure, could do the business; but she has no more than two and the captain's gig a-board--as I heard this morning at Queenborough. The evening is closing, and neither of the other ships--whose slovenly rigging wants Blake's dressing--hae any guns a-board to signify." "Ay," said another, "so much for our near neighbours: what say you to our farther ones, at t'other side the island--just at the entrance to the Mersey?" "Say!" said Springall, "why, that they could be round in less than no time if they knew who's who."