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Put 'em in number three, there's most light there, and it's safer. Tell Sott, when he comes back, to keep his nine eyes on the front door, to see that nobody that oughtn't to gets in or out." "One apiece for us, eh, Mex?" added Sheldrake. The kidnappers departed, after fastening the outer bolt of the door. Mex, sole custodian of the unwilling guests, scowled upon them, in silence.
Our guide did nothing else but talk of him, and laughed till he cried while recounting the comical freaks of "the sweet man;" or, as he phrased him vernacularly, "Manen sött."
Even snatches of the witches’ song can sometimes be distinguished above the howling of the gale— “Sott’ aero e sopra vento, Sotto la Nuce di Benevento!”
They clim up, got drunk, were put to bed, and " Here Nine Eyes went through a pantomime suggestive of throat-cutting. The black man, who stuck close by Sheldrake's side, twisted in his seat, and showed the white of his eyes. Sott, delighted to note these signs of trepidation, went on with his reminiscences.
Did you, Sott? ever hear any one say Burke Pierce was a liar or a foot-licker?" "I'd hate to be in the place of the man that 'u'd dare," swore Cacosotte, hastily. He had noticed the excessive drinking, with dread of the probable consequence. "I guess you would hate to rile me up even if you was a great general, dressed in uniform, and with gold epaulettes and buttons all over.
His comrades called him "Sott" for brevity, or "Nine Eyes," not because he had nine eyes, as he had only one, but because he boasted he had "gouged" nine enemies that is, dug out their organs of sight with thumb and fingers. Two of the select party were Burke Pierce and Abe Sheldrake.
I want to say to you, Abe, and you, Sott, and you over there smoking your pipe, you raw recruit I've got in my pocket, what will bring the brigadier to terms. Bet your souls on it! Bet your black hair, Mex! Say, you raw recruit, where's your pal? Where's the feller you said wanted to join us? Open you jaws!" "He is down on the boat," said the sullen man, rising and emptying his pipe.
"Fine wimming," remarked Sott, sagely, "is like pizen vine, pooty and clingin, but pesky dangerous; I hadn't better teched Pluggie. A woming of your own is worse yet. She spiles on you, and you can't sell her as you do a hoss or a nigger." Pierce looked at the darky, who grinned self-consciously. "How many times over has Abe sold you since you ran away from the island?"
Palafox was wont to amuse himself by provoking the pride and jealousy of this caged creature of untamed affections. "Where is Sott? Did he come home? He ought to be burnt alive for letting my game escape. Where is he?"