"
"Ay, ay, sir," replied Bulger, "which his feathers will be plucked, or my
name en't Bulger."
At the side of the sloop lay the dinghy intended to convey the subahdar
and his men ashore when the work of sinking had been started. It was made
fast to the vessel by a rope. Bulger sprang into the dinghy and then
began an ascent so clever, and at the same time so comical, that Desmond
had much ado not to spoil his joke by a premature explosion of laughter.
The burly seaman swarmed up the rope like a monkey, clasping it with his
legs as he took each upward grip. But the comedy of his actions was
provided by his hook. Having only one arm--an arm, it is true, with the
biceps of a giant--he could not clutch the rope in the ordinary way. But
at each successive spring he dug his hook into the side of the vessel,
and mounted with amazing rapidity, talking to himself all the time.
"Avast, there!" he shouted, as with a final heave upon the hook dug into
the gunwale he hoisted himself on deck. "Haul down your colors, matey,
which they make a pretty pictur', they do."
He came overpoweringly towards Desmond, his arm and stump spread wide as
if to embrace him.
"I may be wrong," said Desmond, "but have I not the pleasure of
addressing Mr. William Bulger?"
Bulger started as if shot. His broad face spelled first blank amazement,
then incredulity, then surprised belief. Spreading his legs wide and
bending his knees, he rested his hand on one and his hook on the other,
shut one eye, and stuck his tongue out at the corner of his mouth.
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