Commodore Junk — page 256: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

DINNY CONSENTS. 249 magazine ’—think of that now, the darlin’ !—‘ lay a thrain,’ she says, ‘Dinny, and put a slow-match, same as ye have riddy for firing the big guns, and then be sure,’ she says, ‘and get out of the way ’—as if I’d want to shtay, sor, and be sent to hiven in a hurry—‘ thin,’ she says, ‘the whole place will be blown up, and iverybody will be running to see what’s the matther and put out the fire, and they’ll be so busy wid that, they'll forget all about the prishner, and we can go down to the say and get away.” “Yes,” said Humphrey, thoughtfully. “Is there much powder stored there ?” “Yis, sor, a dale. Ivery time a ship’s been tuk all the powdher has been brought ashore and put there. It’s a foin plan, sor, and all made out of the darlin’s own head.” “Yes, Dinny, we ought to get away then.” “Sure, an’ we will, sor. I'll have a boat wid plenty of wather and sun-dhried mate in her, and some fruit and fishing- lines. We shall do; but the plan isn’t perfect yet.” “Why ?” “Sure, an’ there’s no arrangement for getting Black Mazzard to come that time to count over the powdher-barrels,” “What! and blow the scoundrel up ?” ‘Sure, sor, and it would be a kindness to him. He’s the wickedest divil that ever breathed, and he gets worse ivery day, so wouldn’t it be a kindness to try and send him to heaven before he gets too bad to go? But whist! Pve stopped too long, sor. Ye understand?” ‘“Dinny, get me away from here, and youre a made man!” “ Haix, I dunno, sor. Mebbe there'll be one lot’ll want to shoot me fot a desarter—though I desarted by force—and another lot’ll want to hang me fora pirate. I don’t fale at all safe ; but I know I shall be tuk and done for some day if I Gomicbooks =)