The gang who had seized me were rough-bearded fellows in fur caps and fustian jackets, with buff belts round their waists, from which hung short straight whinyards. Their dark sun-dried faces and their great boots marked them as fishermen or seamen, as might be guessed from their rude sailor speech. A pair knelt on either side with their hands upon my arms, a third stood behind with a cocked pistol pointed at my head, while the others, seven or eight in number, were helping to his feet the man whom I had struck, who was bleeding freely from a cut over the eye.

'Take the horse up to Daddy Mycroft's,' said a stout, black-bearded man, who seemed to be their leader. 'It is no mere dragooner hack,[Note I. Appendix] but a comely, full-blooded brute, which will fetch sixty pieces at the least. Your share of that, Peter, will buy salve and plaster for your cut.'

'Ha, houndsfoot!' cried the Dutchman, shaking his fist at me. 'You would strike Peter, would you? You would draw Peter's blood, would you? Tausend Teufel, man! if you and I were together upon the hillside we should see vich vas the petter man.'

'Slack your jaw tackle, Pete,' growled one of his comrades. 'This fellow is a limb of Satan for sure, and doth follow a calling that none but a mean, snivelling, baseborn son of a gun would take to. Yet I warrant, from the look of him, that he could truss you like a woodcock if he had his great hands upon you. And you would howl for help as you did last Martinmas, when you did mistake Cooper Dick's wife for a gauger.'

'Truss me, would he? Todt und Holle!' cried the other, whom the blow and the brandy had driven to madness. 'We shall see. Take that, thou deyvil's spawn, take that!' He ran at me, and kicked me as hard as he could with his heavy sea-boots.

Some of the gang laughed, but the man who had spoken before gave the Dutchman a shove that sent him whirling. 'None of that,' he said sternly. 'We'll have British fair-play on British soil, and none of your cursed longshore tricks. I won't stand by and see an Englishman kicked, d'ye see, by a tub-bellied, round-starned, schnapps-swilling, chicken-hearted son of an Amsterdam lust-vrouw. Hang him, if the skipper likes. That's all above board, but by thunder, if it's a fight that you will have, touch that man again.'

'All right, Dicon,' said their leader soothingly. 'We all know that Pete's not a fighting man, but he's the best cooper on the coast, eh, Pete? There is not his equal at staving, hooping, and bumping. He'll take a plank of wood and turn it into a keg while another man would be thinking of it.'

'Oh, you remember that, Captain Murgatroyd,' said the Dutchman sulkily. 'But you see me knocked about and shlagged, and bullied, and called names, and what help have I? So help me, when the _Maria_ is in the Texel next, I'll take to my old trade, I will, and never set foot on her again.'

'No fear,' the Captain answered, laughing. 'While the _Maria_ brings in five thousand good pieces a year, and can show her heels to any cutter on the coast, there is no fear of greedy Pete losing his share of her. Why, man, at this rate you may have a lust-haus of your own in a year or two, with a trimmed lawn, and the trees all clipped like peacocks, and the flowers in pattern, and a canal by the door, and a great bouncing house-wife just like any Burgomeister. There's many such a fortune been made out of Mechlin and Cognac.'

'Aye, and there's many a broken kopf got over Mechlin and Cognac,' grumbled my enemy. 'Donner! There are other things beside lust-houses and flower-beds. There are lee-shores and nor'-westers, beaks and preventives.'

'And there's where the smart seaman has the pull over the herring buss, or the skulking coaster that works from Christmas to Christmas with all the danger and none of the little pickings. But enough said! Up with the prisoner, and let us get him safely into the bilboes.'

I was raised to my feet and half carried, half dragged along in the midst of the gang.

Micah Clarke Page 129

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