How I Came Aboard The Happy Despatch And Of My Sufferings There

"Pompey?" exclaimed this fellow Diccon, a merry-seeming fellow but with a truculent eye. "Look 'ee, Job, here's a match for Pompey at last, as I do think, man to man, bare fists or knives, a match and I'll lay to't."

"Pshaw!" growled Job. "Pompey could eat 'im--bones and all, curse 'im! Pompey would break 'is back as 'e did the big Spaniard's last week."

"Nay, Job, this fellow should make better fight for't than did the Spanisher. Look 'ee now, match 'em, and I'll lay all my share o' the voyage on this fellow, come now!"

"A match? Why so I would, but what o' Belvedere?"

"He sulketh, Job, and yonder he cometh, a-sucking of his thumb and all along o' this fellow and our Jo. Joanna's cocked her eye on this fellow and Belvedere's cake's dough--see him yonder!"

Now following the speaker's look, I perceived Captain Belvedere descending the quarter-ladder, his handsome face very evil and scowling; spying me where I lay, he came striding up and folding his arms, stood looking over me silently awhile.

"Lord love me!" he exclaimed at last in huge disgust and spat upon me. "Aft with him--to the coach--"

"Coach, Cap'n?" questioned Job, staring. "And why theer?"

"Because I say so!" roared Belvedere.

"And because," quoth Diccon, his eye more truculent than ever, "because women will be women, eh, Captain?" At this Belvedere's face grew suffused, his eyes glared and he turned on the speaker with clenched fist; then laughing grimly, he spurned me savagely with his foot.