He was well
dressed without fripperies, and bore with him an air of vigorous
authority.
As the little man stepped from the ladder into the waist, whither
Captain Blood had gone to receive him, his sharp, ferrety dark
eyes swept the uncouth ranks of the assembled crew of the Arabella.
"And where the devil may I be now?" he demanded irritably. "Are you
English, or what the devil are you?"
"Myself, I have the honour to be Irish, sir. My name is Blood
- Captain Peter Blood, and this is my ship the Arabella, all very
much at your service.
"Blood!" shrilled the little man. "O 'Sblood! A pirate!" He swung
to the Colossus who followed him - "A damned pirate, van der Kuylen.
Rend my vitals, but we're come from Scylla to Charybdis."
"So?" said the other gutturally, and again, "So?" Then the humour
of it took him, and he yielded to it.
"Damme! What's to laugh at, you porpoise?" spluttered mulberry-coat.
"A fine tale this'll make at home! Admiral van der Kuylen first
loses his fleet in the night, then has his flagship fired under him
by a French squadron, and ends all by being captured by a pirate.
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