For an instant I contemplated
rushing over the cliff into the sea; but this I saw I could not now
accomplish, as some of the men were already between me and the water.
There was a good deal of jesting at the success of their scheme, as the
crew ascended the rocks and addressed the man who had captured me by
the title of captain. They were a ferocious set of men, with shaggy
beards and scowling brows. All of them were armed with cutlasses and
pistols, and their costumes were, with trifling variations, similar to
that of the captain. As I looked from one to the other, and observed
the low, scowling brows that never unbent, even when the men laughed,
and the mean, rascally expression that sat on each face, I felt that my
life hung by a hair.
"But where are the other cubs?" cried one of the men, with an oath that
made me shudder. "I'll swear to it there were three, at least, if not
more."
"You hear what he says, whelp: where are the other dogs?" said the
captain.
"If you mean my companions," said I in a low voice, "I won't tell you."
A loud laugh burst from the crew at this answer.
The pirate captain looked at me in surprise. Then drawing a pistol from
his belt, he cocked it and said, "Now, youngster, listen to me. I've no
time to waste here. If you don't tell me all you know, I'll blow your
brains out! Where are your comrades?"
For an instant I hesitated, not knowing what to do in this extremity.
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