“One’s an enemy and one’s a friend.”
“Who’s the friend?”
“Dirk Duyvel and his band of Sea Beggars; and Dirk’s thunderin’ mad and swears he is being badly treated.”
“Who’s the enemy?” [[11]]
“A Spanish pleasure galley or State barge, judgin’ by the fol-de-rols and awnings.”
“Who are on board her?”
“Rowers, who are begging for their lives, and two or three women, all of ’em fainted but one. There was an Italian, Spaniard or something, but Duyvel and his band when they captured the boat tied a rope round him, threw him overboard and towed him, and I guess he’s drowned by this time.”
“Very well, pull the Italian up and bring him on board. Also send Dirk to me.”
A minute later a stalwart-looking Dutch sea-dog comes over the side, stamping his heavy boots and uttering a curse with every stamp.
“Come here, Dirk, what are you growling about?” laughs the young captain.