“Aye,” chorus, froglike, his bully boys.
The job is soon done. With upraised right hands one and all swear to leave off piracy. They come in children of the rope; they depart free and law-abiding men. It is very easy.
All leave, that is, save Blackbeard.
“I salvages ships, your honors,” thunders this gentleman, spreading himself out on a chair so that his beard should flow in its glory like a blanket over his person, while all its fancy little curly-cues, ringlets and twists dance with every movement of his chin. “My real trade, your honors—ship salvager. Mebbe I’ll have business here. Lost ships is what I go for and lost ships I finds.
“No need for a good ship to be lost while Blackbeard’s around to take ’em home again. No occasion to leave a lost ship to drift around till them dirty seadogs of pirates mauls ’em over. Law says lost ships must be reported to the governor, and now I abide the law.”
“How d’ye mean, Captain?” says the governor. “D’ye pull ’em off the rocks?”
The audience chamber—if it may be so called—shakes with the visitor’s laughing.
“Ye don’t know rocks, your honor, beggin’ pardon; rocks don’t let nothing go oncet they get aholt. Deserted ships I picks up; ships with a little water in ’em don’t always go down as fast as the master fears.
“There’s where I comes in. I get a ship like that; I comes in to you. Says I, ‘Your honor, I have salvaged a ship.’ Says your honor, ‘Accordin’ to law, I declares you to have salvage of her.’ I sell her for a good price. Says I to me, ‘The governor, his honor, works hard; he ought to have his wages.’ Says I to you, ‘Your honor will perhaps accept a little present.’ ‘Captain Blackbeard,’ says you, ‘have a jog of rum.’ We all stands up and drinks the king’s ’ealth.”
Governor Eden claps his hands smartly, and the black servitor jumps in.