He heard the roar that went up from all those bearded throats--(wonderful how Uncle Darcy’s thin, quavering voice could sound that whole chorus)----
“Of all the lives, I ever say,
A Pirate’s be for I.
Hap what hap may, he’s allus gay
An’ drinks an’ bungs his eye.
For his work he’s never loth,
An’ a-pleasurin’ he’ll go
Tho’ certain sure to be popt of.
Yo ho, with the rum below."</i>
And then they made after the Portuguese vessels, nine of them, and took them all (What a bloody fight it was!), and sailed away with a dazzling store of treasure, “enough to make an honest sailorman rub his eyes and stagger in his tracks.”
Richard had not been brought up on stories as Georgina had. He had had few of this kind, and none so breathlessly realistic. It carried him out of himself so completely that as they rowed slowly back to town he did not see a single house in it, although every western window-pane flashed back the out-going sun like a golden mirror. His serious, brown eyes were following the adventures of these bold sea-robbers, “marooned three times and wounded nine and blowed up in the air.”
When all of a sudden the brigantine changed back into _The Betsey_, and he had to climb out at the boat-landing, he had somewhat of the dazed feeling of that honest sailor-man. He had heard enough to make him “rub his eyes and stagger in his tracks.”
Uncle Darcy, having put them ashore, rowed off with the parting injunction to skip along home. Georgina did skip, so light of foot and quick of movement that she was in the lead all the way to the Green Stairs. There she paused and waited for Richard to join her. As he came up he spoke for the first time since leaving the weirs.
“Wish I knew the boys in this town. Wish I knew which one would be the best to get to go digging with me.”
Georgina did not need to ask, “digging for what?” She, too, had been thinking of buried treasure.
“_I’ll_ go with you,” she volunteered sweetly.
He turned on her an inquiring look, as if he were taking her measure, then glanced away indifferently.