"I am ordered to tell you, sir, that the Indians number one hundred
and eight, having just counted them, for this purpose."
"I wish there were a thousand, as we are about to lift the deck from
the ship, and send them all into the air. Do you think they can
understand what I say, Miles?"
"The Dipper does, sir, when you speak slow and plain. He has only
half a notion of what you now mean, as I can see by his countenance."
"Does the rascal hear me, now?--is he anywhere near the
companion-way?"
"He does, and is--he is standing, at this moment, on the larboard side
of the companion-way, kneeling one knee, on the forward end of the
hen-coop."
"Miles"--said Marble, in a doubting sort of a voice.
"Mr. Marble--I hear what you say."
"Suppose--eh--lead through the companion-way--eh--what would happen
to _you?_"
"I should care little for that, sir, as I've made up my mind to be
murdered. But it would do no good, just now, and might do harm. I will
tell them, however, of your intention to blow them up, if you please;
perhaps _that_ may make them a little shy."
Marble assented, and I set about the office, as well as I could. Most
of my communication had to be made by means of signs; but, in the end,
I succeeded in making the Dipper understand my meaning. By this man
the purport was told to Smudge, in terms.
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