human
Avast! what are yer doing on, Mr Frewen?--you'll choke me.
gpt
You, Hampton?
human
Ay, at present.
gpt
I thought it was Jarette,
human
Wish it had been, my lad, said the sailor, in the same husky whisper.
gpt
My word, you have got a grip! But there, I must get back; on'y look here. There'll never be a better chance. Here's an old bosun's whistle; stuff it in yer pocket, and don't blow it till the right moment. When you do, blow hard, and me, Barney, and Neb Dumlow's with you.
human
But--
gpt
Butter be hanged, doctor. You've got three pistols, and the door's open. You let out the mate, Mr Denning, and Mr Fishmonger; wait till you think the moment's right, and then down on old Frenchy; whistle hard, and then we'll all make a rush for the others, and drive 'em chock into the forksle, or overboard if they don't mind. Off!
human
One moment, Hampton;