"Which they do by this: what else would bring the steel caps, and the
Devil himself amongst us? besides, there's others off the coast, as well
as we. Do you think old red-nosed Noll would come here about a drop of
blood--a little murder, that could be settled at the 'sizes? There's
something brooding in another direction, that 'ill set his hot blood
boiling: but as it's purely political, all honest men, who have the
free-trade at heart, will keep clear of it. May be he's heard the report
that black-browed Charlie's thinking of pushing on this way,--though I
don't believe it; it's too good to be true: it would soon make us tune
up 'Hey for Cavaliers!' and bring the old days back again."
"But let us," chimed in Springall--"let us keep clear of every thing of
the sort till our ship's safe. Why, in half an hour they might split her
spars as small as jack-straws!"
"Which they won't, I think; because, if they know who she is, they know
her cargo's safe--where Noll himself can't get at it, unless he drags
the cellars--and the stomachs too, by this time--of half his
prayer-loving subjects along the Kent and Essex coast."
"Stuff, stuff! every enemy destroyed is a shade nearer safety," said
Springall; "and Noll knows it."
"That's well said, Spring," replied Jack, winking on his companion; "and
I'll tell you what's true, too, shall I?"
"Ay, ay."
"Young geese are the greatest cacklers."
"I'll tell you what," retorted the lad, drawing himself up with some
dignity, and reddening to the eyes, "I may be but a boy; but have the
goodness to remember, that every oak was a sapling, and every sapling an
acorn. If men trample on the acorn, it will never grow to be the oak;
for, little as it is, the spirit of the oak is in it.--D'ye read my
riddle?"
A good-humoured burst of approbation followed Springall's speech, which
was hushed by some one of the party saying,
"Here comes our Captain, and we can form no plan till he is present."
The door accordingly opened after the hand, applied at last to the
latch, had evidently wandered over the panel, seeking the fastening
which at first it could not discover, and making outside a noise
resembling the scratching of a cat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account