With these, and a good cutlass in my hand, I would face a dozen of these cowardly Spaniards at any time.

If you will stand by me we will drive every mother's son of them overboard!" I saw that Moncrieff was so drunk he could hardly stand.

Indeed, it was only at such times his courage was roused to fighting heat.

I attempted to calm his excitement by representing the slender chance of success we should have in open combat with eight or ten men completely armed; that it was far more likely we should be thrown overboard than the prize crew.

I also argued that even if we should be successful in the desperate contest we should gain nothing, but on the contrary lose the opportunity of proceeding to Porto Cabello where the ship Charity was now lying; that in every point of view his design was objectionable, as well as impracticable; and furthermore, the attempt would be an ungrateful return for the civilities and indulgence we had received from the prize-master and his associates.
My remonstrances only served to increase the fury of Moncrieff, who swore that single-handed he would retake the schooner.