"There'll be no talk of pirates then! 'Twill be my Lord Duke of Jedburgh, Marquis of Cobbielaw and Earl and Baron Broomfield; aye, and an English peerage to boot. We'll ride high, Robert—aye, with the highest!"
He broke off short, and the glow in his eyes charred out.
"'Tis not a bad vision for a wicked old man to dream; eh, boy? Remember it when you hear the crowds a-cheering us in the Strand."
Almost he made me believe him, this outlaw of the sea. But Peter broke the spell.
"Me, I don't beliefe in dreams," yawned the Dutchman. "Neen."
Murray glared at him.
"What you believe is of little account, Corlaer," he said curtly, and strode from the cabin.
Peter took a sip of aqua vitae.
"He is a great dreamer, Murray," he squeaked. "Ja, all der time he dreams. He dreamed when we fight wit' him before, me andt your father, Bob. It is not goodt to dream too much, neen."
He sighed.