You sawr 'ow them tinkers jibbed
just now. I must 'umor 'em a bit, d--n 'em. But wait till the next
time some of 'em ships under me. Lord luv' a duck, won't I skin 'em?
Not 'arf!"
De Sylva, with all his admirable command of English, could not follow
the Coke variety in its careless freedom. But he knew his man. Though
bewildered by strange names and stranger words, he was alive to the
significance of things being made easy "for the missus and the girls."
So, even this gnarled sea-dog had a soft spot in his heart! On the
very brink of the precipice his mind turned to his women-kind, just as
De Sylva himself had whispered a last memory of his daughter to San
Benavides when their common doom was seemingly unavoidable.
He would urge no more, since Coke was willing to fall in with his
designs, but he could not forbear from clinching matters.
"I promise on my honor----" he began.
But the nearer surface of the sea flashed into a dazzling distinctness,
and Coke dragged him down to the launch. The cruiser had rounded Rat
Island, and was devoting one sweeping glance eastward ere she sought
her prey in creek or tortuous channel. The men were summoned hastily.
Watts and Olsen had been warned to crouch behind the rocks on the
crest, while those who remained near the launch were told to hide among
the trees or crowd into the small cabin.
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