D'Artagnan, the King Maker — page 103: what you’re looking at

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

94 The Messenger. carried away by the next gust, or splintered to splints for ‘broken grasshoppers’ legs!” ‘Are they coming to take us off? Even if we are not Spanish, in their eyes, humanity dictates that course. Moreover, I will appeal to them in their tongue, and I might use a powerful charm.” “Who knows but that, in half an hour, they may pre- fer the Swordfish’s to their own decks? We are down to the edge, but we will float; our cypress planks repel water like the devil’s coat holy ditto, whereas they have pine under them, and that pine of Old Gascony sops you up the water like a toper’s tongue the wine! but, ship, boat, or catamaran, we must pull through the second stroke of the whip! Manuel, the skipper’s last act of duty !” The ship-carpenter had long since made ready. He had brought up from below a large, strong, well-oiled and copper-banded puncheon. It was about two-barrel capacity. It was lengthened strangely by a conical cap at each end, like a pocket, one completely sewed and tarred, the other with a slit prepared for drawing tightly by a cord. The caps were of stout leather, saturated with oil and toughened to resist jagged joints and cut- ting edges. The passenger regarded this combination of rounded case and flexible pouch with curiosity. “The tub ends both ways in a purse fit for a giant spendthrift,’” commented the. “Are you going to stow your silver in it, as the Turk packs up his in saddlebags, and confide it to the waves?” “T shall confide our treasure to it!” was Pedro’s calm reply. “What do you call this thingamy ?” “A kedge—the North fishers say kaggi—a barrel used as abuoy. The Mediterranean fishermen say, ‘Regulus’ cask’ !”’ “Oh, Regulus, the Roman general whom the Cartha- genians rolled down the mountain side in such a keg?” “Save that they drove a few spikes into it and forgot to clinch them, so that this descent must have made thhim laugh, if he were ticklish!” Nobody laughed. It was not a jesting place or scene. COPNIELIOOKS,(EO)