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The captain just made out to articulate the words "no quarter." "And what did they do with their prisoners?" said Peechy Prauw, eagerly. "Threw them all overboard!" said the merman. A dead pause followed this reply. Peechy Prauw shrunk quietly back like a man who had unwarily stolen upon the lair of a sleeping lion.
Many years had passed away since the time of Sam's youthful adventure, and the snows of many a winter had grizzled the knotty wool upon his head. He perfectly recollected the circumstances, however, for he had often been called upon to relate them, though in his version of the story he differed in many points from Peechy Prauw; as is not unfrequently the case with authentic historians.
This sudden explosion was succeeded by a blank silence throughout the room. Peechy Prauw shrunk within himself, and even the red-faced officer turned pale. Wolfert, who, from a dark corner of the room, had listened with intense eagerness to all this talk about buried treasure, looked with mingled awe and reverence on this bold buccaneer, for such he really suspected him to be.
Is there any cold chicken you could grill?" "Chota murghi one egg lay, mem-sahib, anda poach. Sahib, chicken grill laike!" "Oh, all right! But I thought of a mutton-chop for the major sahib." "Sahib no laike!" "Very well, that will do a poached egg for me and grilled chicken for the sahib." "No, mem-sahib no 'nuf. Sahib plenty 'ungry chicken grill, peechy ramble-tamble egg!"
The obsequious Peechy was again struck dumb. The voice from the water was again heard in a tone of impatience; the bystanders stared with redoubled awe at this man of storms, which seemed to have come up out of the deep and to be called back to it again.
"Oh, to be sure, I've heard tell of something of the kind, but then I took it for some old wives' fable." "Old wives' fable or not," said Peechy Prauw, "that farmhouse stands hard by the very spot.
Peechy Prauw, who never could remain silent, now took up the word, and in a pacifying tone observed that the gentleman certainly was in the right. Kidd never did bury money up the Hudson, nor indeed in any of those parts, though many affirm the fact.
Wolfert had not a doubt that this was the haunted house of father red-cap, and called to mind the story of Peechy Prauw. The evening was approaching, and the light falling dubiously among these places, gave a melancholy tone to the scene, well calculated to foster any lurking feeling of awe or superstition.
A heavy thunder-gust had gathered up unnoticed while they were lost in talk, and the torrents of rain that fell forbade all thoughts of setting off for home until the storm should subside. They drew nearer together, therefore, and entreated the worthy Peechy Prauw to continue the tale which had been so discourteously interrupted.
Here the half-pay officer, who was growing very muzzy and sleepy, and nodding over his liquor, with half-extinguished eye, suddenly gleamed up like an expiring rushlight. "That's all humbug!" said he, as Peechy finished his last story.
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