"There is no question, Sir George, that this fellow is a man-of-war's
man," said the master to the baronet, who stuck close to his side. "Take a
peep at the creeping rogue through this night-glass, and you will see his
crew seated at their thwarts with their arms folded, like men who eat the
king's beef. None but your regular public servant ever gets that impudent
air of idleness about him, either in England or America. In this respect,
human nature is the same in both hemispheres, a man never falling in with
luck, but he fancies it is no more than his deserts."
"There seems to be a great many of them! Can it be their intention to
carry the vessel by boarding?"
"If it is, they must take the will for the deed," returned Mr. Truck a
little coldly. "I very much question if the Montauk, with three cabin
officers, as many stewards, two cooks, and eighteen foremast-men, would
exactly like the notion of being 'carried,' as you style it, Sir, George,
by a six-oared cutter's crew. We are not as heavy as the planet Jupiter,
but have somewhat too much gravity to be 'carried' as lightly as all
that, too."
"You intend, then, to resist?" asked Sir George, whose generous zeal in
behalf of the pursued apparently led him to take a stronger interest in
their escape than any other person on board.
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