Who knows?
Small-pox might do it, or the plague!' 'We heard a shot aboard of the brig,' said Reuben.
'That was my brother Nonus shooting at me,' the stranger observed, shaking his head sadly.
'But there was a second shot.' 'Ah, that was me shooting at my brother Nonus.' 'Good lack!' I cried.

'I trust that thou hast done him no hurt.' 'But a flesh wound, at the most,' he answered.

'I thought it best to come away, however, lest the affair grow into a quarrel.

I am sure that it was he who trained the nine-pounder on me when I was in the water.
It came near enough to part my hair.

He was always a good shot with a falconet or a mortar-piece.