"
"I reckon you fellows might find something more cheerful to talk
about." Gunner Oke shifted his seat again, and threw a nervous
glance seaward.
"William Oke, William Oke, you'll never make a sojer! Now I mind
back in 'seventy-nine when the fleets of France an' Spain assembled
and come together agen us--sixty-six sail of the line, my billies,
besides frigates an' corvettes an' such-like small trade; an' the
folks at Plymouth blowing off their alarm-guns, an' the signals
flying from Maker Tower--a bloody flag at the masthead an' two blue
uns at the outriggers. Four days they laid to, in sight of the
assembled multitude of Looe, an' Squire Buller rode down to form us
up to oppose 'em. 'Hallo!' says the Squire, catching sight of me.
'Where's your gun? Don't begin for to tell me that a han'some,
well-set-up, intelligent chap like Israel Spettigew is for hangin'
back at his country's call!' 'Squire,' says I, 'you've a-pictered me
to a hair. But there's one thing you've left out. I've been turnin'
it over, an' I don't see that I'm fit to die.' 'Why not?' says he.
'I'm not a saved man like them other chaps,' says I. 'I've had a few
convictions of sin, but that's as far as it's gone.' 'Tut,' says he,
'have you ever broken the Commandments?' 'What's that?' I asks.
'Why, the things up at the end of the church, inside the rails.'
'I never married my gran'mother, if that's what you mean,' I says.
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