For answer, he pointed seaward, where the sloop’s lantern lay like a floating star on the black waters.
“What!” cried I. “Mistress Delia in that sloop! And who is with her, pray?”
“Why, Black Dick, to begin with—and Reuben Gedges—and Jeremy Toy.”
“All the Knaves left in the pack—God help her!” I muttered, as I look’d out toward the light, and my heart beat heavily. “God help her!” I said again, and turning, spied a grin on the Captain’s face.
“Under Providence,” answered he, “your unworthy servant may suffice. But what is my reward to be?”
“Your neck,” said I, “if I can save it when you are led before the Cornish captains.”
“That’s fair enough: so listen. These few months the lady has been shut in Bristol keep, whither, by the advice of our employer, we conveyed her back safe and sound. This same employer—”
“A dirty rogue, whom you may as well call by his name—Hannibal Tingcomb.”
“Right, young sir: a very dirty rogue, and a niggardly:—I hate a mean rascal. Well, fearing her second escape from that prison, and being hand in glove with the Parliament men, he gets her on board a sloop bound for the Virginias, just at the time when he knows the Earl of Stamford is to march and crush the Cornishmen. For escort she has the three comrades of mine that I named: and the captain of the sloop (a fellow that asks no questions) has orders to cruise along the coast hereabouts till he gets news of the battle.”
“Which you were just now about to give him,” cried I, suddenly enlighten’d.