de up his mind to prevent this, he was not to be denied.
The men who formed the crew--twelve in number--were selected from among
those natives and settlers who were known never to have seen the pirate
captain. They were chosen with a view to their fighting qualities; for
Gascoyne and Henry were sufficient for the management of the little
craft. There were no large guns on board, but all the men were well
armed with cutlasses, muskets, and pistols.
Thus equipped, the Wasp stood out to sea with a light breeze, just as
the moon rose on the coral reef and cast a shower of sparkling silver
across the bay.
CHAPTER XXI.
A TERRIBLE DOOM FOR AN INNOCENT MAN.
"So, you're to be hanged for a pirate, Jo Bumpus, ye are. That's
pleasant to think of, anyhow."
Such was the remark which our stout seaman addressed to himself when he
awoke on the second morning after the departure of the Wasp. If the
thought was really as pleasant as he asserted it to be, his visage must
have been a bad index to the state of his mind; for at that particular
moment Joe looked uncommonly miserable.
The wonted good-humored expression of his countenance had given place to
a gaze of stereotyped surprise and solemnity. Indeed, Bumpus seemed to
have parted with much of his reason, and all of his philosophy; for he
could say nothing else during at least half an hour after awaking except
the phrase, "So you're going to be hanged for a pirate." His comments on
the phrase were, however, a little varied, though always brief; such as,
"Wot a sell! Who'd ha' thought it! It's a dream, it is,--an 'orrible
dream! _I_ don't believe it; who does? Wot'll your poor mother say?" and
the like.
Bumpus had, unfortunately, good ground for making this statement.
After the cutter sailed it was discovered that Bumpus was concealed in
Mrs. Stuart's cottage. This discovery had been the result of the
seaman's own recklessness and indiscretion; for when he ascertained that
he was to be kept a prisoner in the cottage until the return of the
Wasp, he at once made up his mind to submit with a good grace to what
could not be avoided. In order to prove that he was by no means cast
down, as well as to lighten the tedium of his confinement, Jo
entertained himself by singing snatches of sea songs; such as, "My tight
little craft,"--"A life on the stormy sea,"--"Oh for a draught of the
howling blast!" etc.; all of which he delivered in a bass voice so
powerful that it c
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