’ There was a pause. ‘I will not detain you, gentlemen,’ said Jack coldly. ‘Mr Parker, let the starboard watch be exercised at the great guns and the larboard at reefing topsails. Mr Pullings will take the small-arms men. What is that infernal row. Hallows,’ – to the Marine sentry outside the door – ‘what is that din?’ ‘Beg pardon, your Honour,’ said the soldier, ‘it’s the captain’s steward and the gun-room steward fighting over the use of the coffee-pot.’ ‘God damn their eyes,’ cried Jack. ‘I’ll tan their hides – I’ll give them a bloody shirt – I’ll stop their capers. Old seamen, too: rot
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