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the side of the lawbreakers, and who knows how many of these same Kings men had not themselves done a very profitable trade with the illegal cargoes from France.
These were the feelings that existed as the Kings men lay in the dyke opposite Mill House Farm, listening to the noise of ponies hoofs in the yard, and waiting to fire upon any one who presented himself.
But the order Not to kill, but to fire low, also damped their spirits, for what chance would they have against desperate fellows keeping their necks out of the rope, who would not hesitate but would rather aim to kill?
The bosun had great difficulty in preventing one old seadog who lay next him in the ditch from voicing his opinion of the proceedings in a loud bass voice, but what he did say he after all had the good grace to whisper, though a whisper that was none too soft at that.
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What the hells the sense, Mr. Bosun, of sending good seamen like we be to die like dogs in this blamed ditch? Aint England got no use for seamen nowadays? Taint the members of Parleyment wotll serve her when it comes to fighting, though they does talk so very pleasant.
They dont talk as much as you do, was the hushed retort of the bosun.
Look ye ere, Job Mallet, went on the seadog, youve been shipmate o mine for longer than I well remembers, and you be in command here. Well, I aint a-kickin against your authority, mind you, but Im older than you be, and I want to voice my opinion to you, which is also the opinion of every mothers son in this damned ditch. Why dont we clear out of this and be done with the folly? We looks to you, Job Mallet, I say we looks to you as our bosun, and a very good bosun you be, we looks to you, we does, to save us bein made fools of. We wants to fight the Frenchies and not our own fellows. The Parleyments a-makin a great mistake puttin down the smugglers. If they only talked nice to
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em theyd find a regiment or two o smugglers very handy to fight them ugly Frenchies. For my own part I dont see why the Parleyment dont put down other professions for a bit and leave the smugglers alone. Why not give lawyers a turn, eh? They could do with a bit o hexposin! Dirty swabs! And so could the doctors wot sell coloured water for doses. Bah! dirty, dishonest fellows! But, oh, no! Its always the poor smugglers who be really hard-working fellows; and very good fighters they be, too, as well soon be called upon to see.
At this time Job Mallet tried to silence him, but threats, persuasions, and arguments were all alike useless.
Old Collywobbles thinks the same as wot we does.
Ill have you to remember, whispered the bosun stiffly, that I bein in command in this ere ditch dont know as to who you be alludin when you say Collywobbles. I dont know no one of that name.
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Oh, aint you a stickler to duty? chuckled the seadog. Still I respecs you fer it, though praps youll permit me to remind you as how it was you in the focsle of the Resistance as gave the respected Captain Howard Collyer, R.N., the pleasant pet name of Collywobbles. Though praps thats slipped your memory for he moment.
It has, answered the bosun.
Very well, then, but you can take it from me as how it was, so there, and a very clever name it be, too; but there, you always was one of the clever ones, Job Mallet.
I wish I were clever enough to make your fat mouth shut, I do, muttered the bosun.
Now, then, Job Mallet, dont you begin getting to personalities. But there, now, I dont want to quarrel with you. Youve always had my greatest respecs, you has, and as well probably be stiff uns in a few minutes, we wont quarrel,
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old pal. But I give you my word that I dont like being shot down like a rabbit, and Im sorry as how its you as is in command, cos if it was any one else I declares Id get up now and walk home to bed.
If Captain Collyer was here, you know youd do nothing of the sort.
Why, aint he here? Thats wot I wants to know. Strike me dead! its easy enough to send out poor old seadogs to be shot like bunny rabbits. I could do that. There aint no pluck in that, as far as I can see, though praps I be wrong, and if I be wrong, well, Ill own up to it, for I dont care bein put in the wrong of it when I is in the wrong of it.
You aint a-settin a very good example to the young men, Im thinkin, said Job Mallet. You, the oldest seaman here, and a-grumblin and a-gossipin like an old housewife. You ought to think shame on yourself, old friend.
Oh, well, growled the other, I wont utter another blarsted word, I wont. But if you does want to know my opinion in these ere proceedins, itshell!
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I dont say as how I dont agree with you, returned Job Mallet, but there it is and weve got to make the best of it. It wont do no good a-grumblin. Well make the best of a bad job, and I hopes as I for one will be able to do my duty, cos I dont relish it no more than you do.
Well, strike me blind, dumb, and deaf! thundered the seadog in a voice of emotion as he clapped Job Mallet on the back, if Ive been a snivellin powder monkey I ought to be downright ashamed of myself, and seein as how I be the oldest seaman here, insteadwell, Im more than damned downright ashamed, Job Mallet, thank you! You set a good example to us all, Mister Bosun, and Ill stand by you for one. Damn the smugglers, and wait till I get at em, thats all!
Thank yer, said the bosun, but youll greatly oblige me by keeping quiet, cos here be the smugglers, if I aint mistook.
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Indeed at that instant along the road came the sound of the sharp, quick steps of the packponies. At present they were hidden in the mist which floated thickly about that part of the Marsh, but they could not only hear the ponies but a sound of a voice singing as well. This voice was raised in a wailing monotone and the words were repeated over and over again. They were intended for the ears of the wretched sailors who were waiting in the ditch for the attack:
Listen, oh, you good Kings men who are waiting to shoot us from the damp ditch. We have got your kind captain here, a blunderbuss alooking at the back of his head. If you fire on us, good Kings men, then the blunderbuss will fire at the good captain, and then:
All the Kings horses and all the Kings men Could not put captain together again.
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Even if the words were not sufficient to explain the situation to the sailors, the first figures of the cavalcade were all sufficient. A donkey led by two jacko- lanterns on foot jolted out of the fog. Upon its back was a man bound and gagged, supported on either side by two devil-men. That the gagged wretch was the captain needed no words to tell, for his uniform showed by the lanterns light, and there right behind him, sure enough, was the blunderbuss in question, pointed by a snuffy little devil called by his colleagues Hellspite, who sat hunched up on a shoddy little pony. This little group halted at a convenient distance from the sailors in the ditch, and Hellspite again rehearsed his little speech, ending up with:
All the Kings horses and all the Kings men Could not put captain together again.