‘Don’t irritate him unnecessarily,’ had been Wendy’s instructions in the hold; so Tootles stepped forward politely. Tootles hated the idea of signing under such a man, but an instinct told him that it would be prudent to lay the responsibility on an absent person; and though a somewhat silly boy, he knew that mothers alone are always willing to be the buffer. All children know this about mothers, and despise them for it, but make constant use of it.

So Tootles explained prudently, ‘You see, sir, I don’t think my mother would like me to be a pirate. Would your mother like you to be a pirate, Slightly?’

He winked at Slightly, who said mournfully, ‘I don’t think so,’ as if he wished things had been otherwise. ‘Would your mother like you to be a pirate, Twin?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said the first twin, as clever as the others. ‘Nibs, would——?’

‘Stow this gab,’ roared Hook, and the spokesmen were dragged back. ‘You, boy,’ he said, addressing John, ‘you look as if you had a little pluck in you. Didst never want to be a pirate, my hearty?’

Now John had sometimes experienced this hankering at maths prep; and he was struck by Hook’s picking him out.

‘I once thought of calling myself Red-handed Jack,’ he said diffidently.

‘And a good name too. We’ll call you that here, bully, if you join.’

‘What do you think, Michael?’ asked John.

‘What would you call me if I join?’ Michael demanded.

‘Blackbeard Joe.’

Michael was naturally impressed. ‘What do you think, John?’ He wanted John to decide, and John wanted him to decide.

‘Shall we still be respectful subjects of the King?’ John inquired.

Through Hook’s teeth came the answer: ‘You would have to swear, “Down with the King.”’

Perhaps John had not behaved very well so far, but he shone out now.

‘Then I refuse,’ he cried, banging the barrel in front of Hook.

‘And I refuse,’ cried Michael.

‘Rule Britannia!’ squeaked Curly.

The infuriated pirates buffeted them in the mouth; and Hook roared out, ‘That seals your doom. Bring up their mother. Get the plank ready.’

They were only boys, and they went white as they saw Jukes and Cecco preparing the fatal plank. But they tried to look brave when Wendy was brought up.

No words of mine can tell you how Wendy despised those pirates. To the boys there was at least some glamour in the pirate calling, but all that she saw was that the ship had not been scrubbed for years. There was not a port-hole on the grimy glass of which you might not have written with your finger, ‘Dirty pig’; and she had already written it on several. But as the boys gathered round her she had no thought, of course, save for them.