low such a grip of the wrist
as sent his sword spinning on the deck. Picking it up, he quietly broke
it over his knee into three pieces, which he pitched one after the other
overboard.

"Now, master jackanapes," said he, returning to his adversary, and
catching him by his starched ruff. "You shall follow your sword."

Then the poor fellow, scared out of his wits, let go a string of oaths,
and vowed to heaven he did but jest, and loved us both like his own
brothers, and, would Ludar but unhand him, he might count on him as a
friend for life, and so forth. Even Ludar could not help laughing at
the figure he made; and having lifted him a little on to the gunwale,
let him down again with a "get you gone then."

'Twas wonderful how the gallant's courage came back as soon as he stood
free.

"By my soul," said he, with a gay laugh, "thou'rt a brave lad, and I
like thee for 't. A jest is like marrow in a dog's bone, and life
without sport is a camel's track. Come, thou and I shall be friends, I
see; and crack more jokes than one ere this voyage be over. And, in
sooth, Achilles doth well to make proof now and again of the strength of
Hercules. Why, my Hercules, I warrant thou couldest lift that box of
mine with thy finger and thumb. I pray thee, for my admiration, see if
thou couldest so carry it from where it now lies to my cabin in the
poop; and our flying Dutchman here shall be judge that the feat be
fairly done."

Ludar, with a grim smile, owned that he had the worst of this encounter,
and made the fellow happy by carrying his box in one hand; although he
alarmed him not a little by offering to carry him in the other.

When this little jest was over, the captain came to us with orders to
join the crew in making all things ready for presently meeting the sea
breezes at the river's mouth; so we had no more time just then to think
of Master Coxcomb.

It moved my admiration to see with what a will Ludar worked at his task.
He made no question of the Frenchman's right to order his services; and
methought, as he hauled away cheerily among his ill-favoured messmates,
he looked as noble as had he been marching at the head of an army. The
ship's crew was, to tell the truth, a scurvy company. Not counting us,
there were but eleven of them, mostly French, who talked and cursed
while they worked and three English, who sulked and grumbled. They
stared in no friendly way at Ludar and me when we joined them; nor did
the