“Mad or not, she has an eye to our captain,” said another.
“And where's the man that would behave to the poor wild thing as he does?”
“Sir Francis Drake would, from whom he got his lesson. Do you mind his putting the negro lass ashore after he found out about—”
“Hush! Bygones be bygones, and those that did it are in their graves long ago. But it was too hard of him on the poor thing.”
“If he had not got rid of her, there would have been more throats than one cut about the lass, that's all I know,” said another; “and so there would have been about this one before now, if the captain wasn't a born angel out of heaven, and the lieutenant no less.”
“Well, I suppose we may get a whet by now. I wonder if these Dons have any beer aboard.”
“Naught but grape vinegar, which fools call wine, I'll warrant.”
“There was better than vinegar on the table in there just now.”
“Ah,” said one grumbler of true English breed, “but that's not for poor fellows like we.”
“Don't lie, Tom Evans; you never were given that way yet, and I don't think the trade will suit a good fellow like you.”