Gerald stayed him. He gave an order, the proa was floated and the sail run up. The smell assaulted them even before they entered the restaurant, greasy and savory. Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. It was red and chapped. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. "You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands.
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