Falk saw that our guns
were shotted. But she proved to be in good faith, and in answer to our hail
she declared herself the Adrienne of Liverpool, eight days from the
Straits, homeward bound. Her master, it appeared, wished to compare notes
on longitude, and a long, dull discussion followed; but in parting Captain
Whidden asked if there was news of pirates or marauders.
"Yes," was the reply. "Much news and bad news." And the master of the
Adrienne thereupon launched into a tale of piracy and treachery such, as I
never had heard before. Leaning over the taffrail, his elbows out-thrust
and his big hands folded, he roared the story at us in a great booming
voice that at times seemed to drown the words in its own volume. Now, as
the waves and the wind snatched it away, it grew momentarily fainter and
clearer; now it came bellowing back again, loud, hoarse, and indistinct.
It was all about an Arab ship off Benkulen; Ladronesers and the havoc they
had wrought among the American ships in the China Sea; a warning not to
sail from Macao for Whampoa without a fleet of four or five sail; and
again, about the depredations of the Malays. The grizzled old captain
seemed to delight in repeating horrible yarns of the seas whence he came,
whither we were going.
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