He pricked my nose with the sword tip, and tears came to my eyes as blood trickled over my mouth. Then he brought his face close to mine and began sniffing me, as would a dog.
Mr. Birdsong, hearing this, threw himself at the quartermaster, who sidestepped. Willie fluttered into the air as Mr. Birdsong ended his sally lying face down on the deck. The quartermaster made a slash across the poor man's bum with the flat of his rapier.
"Throw this flotsam in the hold," he said, "I'll decide what to do with 'em later -- and I'll want a dalliance or two with this magnificent yellow b---- here, ere I slit her throat."
