Captain: Avoid? By the rotten bones o' Flint, if I meets that man in a velvet cloak I hooks out his eye.
Duke: Captain, yer sweats yerself unnecessary. (Slyly.) Here 's Red Joe, ol' dear. Joe 's a spry young feller. He looks as if he might be hankerin' fer a wife. Hey, Darlin'?
Darlin': He 's the kind as wampires makes their wictims.
(With a laugh—but unwillingly—Joe holds out his hand.)
Meg: (as she looks in the glass her face brightens). I sees a tall buildin' with gold spires. I hears a shout o' joy and I hears stately music, like what yer hears in Bartolmy Fair arter the Lord Mayor has made his speech. I sees a man in a silk cloak. He swaggers to the music. I sees—I sees—
(She looks long in the glass and seems to see great and unexpected things. Her eyes are as wide as a child's at a tale of fairies. It is no less a moment—but how different!—than when Lady Bluebeard peeped in the forbidden door. Scarcely was Little Red Riding Hood more startled when she touched the strange bristles on her grandmother's chin. But Meg is not frightened. She smiles. She bends intently. She is about to speak. Then she sinks into the chair behind the table.)
Meg: I sees—I sees—nothin'! The glass is blank!
Captain: Nothin'? Jest nothin' at all?
Patch: Ain 't there no blood drippin'?
Darlin': Ner gibbets?