“You mean to say—” began Ambrose; but the other took him up short, saying fiercely:
“Belay with putting words in my mouth! What I means to say, and what I don’t mean to say, a’n’t none of your business. Belike you’ld be bearing tales to the Doctor!”
“Nay,” said Ambrose; “you should know me better than to say so.”
The other was as easily pacified as before he had been incensed. “All’s well,” said he, “I’ll treat you, too—in Port Royal.”
“How goes the work?” asked Ambrose.
“The ship work?” cried the pirate. “Trust me not, if I a’n’t dog-sick of it! The blasting work of haling the King’s ship ashore, above the tide mark!”
“Have you careened her?” said Ambrose.
“Ay, ’tis done, praise the Saints!”
“What’s next to do?”
“Why, haven’t you heard? We’re to set to work with the carpenters to build another King’s ship. John Rance hath his orders.”