Diggle alone appeared unconcerned; he was smiling as
he lolled against the mast.
"They'll fire at me, will they?" growled the captain with a curse. "And
chase me, will they? By jimmy, they shall sink me before I surrender!"
"Degeneres animos timor arguit," quoted Diggle, smiling.
"Argue it? I'll be hanged if I argue it! They're not king's ships to take
it on 'emselves to stop me on the high seas! If the Company wants to
prevent me from honest trading in these waters let 'em go to law, and be
hanged to 'em! Talk of arguing! Lawyer's work. Humph!"
"You mistake, Barker. The Roman fellow whose words slipped out of my
mouth almost unawares said nothing of arguing. 'Fear is the mark of only
base minds': so it runs in English, captain; which is as much as to say
that Captain Ben Barker is not the man to haul down his colors in a
hurry."
"You're right there. Another shot! That's their argument: well, Ben
Barker can talk that way as well as another."
He called up the boatswain. Shortly afterwards the order was piped, "Up
all hammocks!" The men quickly stowed their bedding, secured it with
lashings, and carried it to the appointed places on the quarterdeck,
poop, or forecastle. Meanwhile the boatswain and his mates secured the
yards; the ship's carpenter brought up shot plugs for repairing any
breeches made under the waterline; and the gunners looked to the cannon
and prepared charges for them and the small arms.
Bulger was in charge of the twelve-pounder aft, and Mr.
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