g pipe. This he stuffed with tobacco, and having England Dame Fodboldtrøjer lit it by means of a flint and steel with a piece of touch-paper from the inside of Juventus Trøjer his box, he curled his legs under him in Eastern fashion, and settled down to enjoy a smoke. There was something so peculiar about the whole incident, and so preposterous about the man’s appearance and actions, that we both broke into a roar of laughter, which lasted until for very exhaustion we were compelled to stop. He neither joined in our merriment nor expressed offence at it, but continued Finland Pelipaidat to suck away at his long wooden tube with a perfectly stolid and impassive face, save Marco Reus Pelipaidat that the half-covered eyes glinted rapidly backwards and forwards from one to the other of us.
‘You will excuse our laughter, sir,’ I said at last; ‘my friend and I are unused to such adventures, and Naiset Northface Denali Takki are merry at the happy ending of it. May we ask whom Dortmund Fodboldtrøjer it is that we have picked up?’
‘Decimus Saxon is my name,’ the stranger answered; ‘I am Naisten Portugali Pelipaidat the tenth child of a worthy father, as the Latin implies. There are but nine betwixt me and an inheritance. Who knows? Small-pox might do it, or the plague!’
‘We heard a shot aboard of the brig,’ said Reuben.
‘That was my brother Nonus shooting at me,’ the stranger observed, shaking his head sadly.
‘But there was a second shot.’
‘Ah, that was me shooting at my brother Nonus.’
‘Good lack!’ I cried. ‘I trust that thou hast done him no hurt.’
‘But a flesh wound, at the most,’ he Arsenal Trøjer answered. ‘I thought it best to come away, however, lest the affair grow into a quarrel. I am sure that it was he who trained the nine-pounder on me when I was in the water. It came near enough to part my hair. He was always a good shot with Ukraina a falconet Switzerland Børn Fodboldtrøjer or a mortar-piece. He could not New Zealand Fodboldtrøjer have been hurt, however, to get down from the poop to the main-deck in the time.’
There was a pause after this, while the stranger drew a long knife from his belt, and cleaned out his pipe with it. Reuben and I took up our oars, and having pulled up our tangled fishing-lines, which had been streaming behind the boat, we proceeded to pull in towards the land.
‘The question now is,’ said the stranger, ‘where we are to go to?’
‘We are going down Langston Bay,’ I answered.
‘Oh, we are, are we?’ he cried, in a mocking voice; ‘you are sure of it eh? You are certain we are not going to France? We have a mast and sail there, I see, and water in the beaker. All we want are a few fish, which I hear are plentiful in these waters, and we might make a push for Barfleur.’
‘We are going down Langston Bay,’ I repeated coldly.
‘You see might is right upon the waters,’ he explained, with a smile which broke his whole face up into crinkles. ‘I am an old soldier, a Converse British Flag tough fighting man, and you are two raw lads. I have a knife, and you are unarmed. D’ye see the line of argument? The question now is, Where are we to go?’
I faced round upon him with the oar in my hand. ‘You boasted that you could swim to Portsmouth,’ slinks:
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