"Ay, sure, a religious good name, sir; a' comes betwixt Joel and Obydiah somewheres after the holy psa'ms. Born at Chard, sir, in Zummerzet, but voyaged to Plimworth when that I was a little tiny boy, and served 'prentice aboard the Seamew—master, John Penworthy."
Dennis had heard only the first sentence of this string of facts. He was in the very act of stooping to dig a grave with one of the maroons' big axes, when there flashed into his mind an idea which set him aglow with hope.
"Well, friend Amos," he said, so quietly that none could have suspected his inward eagerness, "think you not we may strip the outer garments from these knaves before we bury them? Your back would be the better for a covering, and this leathern doublet would well beseem you."
"True, sir, but I never donned a stranger's coat yet. I be English true blue, and though the Spaniard's doublet might span my back, 'twould irk my feeling mind, sir!"
"To please me, Amos. I would fain you covered your arms—the red is too like blood, and we may see enough of that ere we be many hours older."
To Dennis's gratification the sailor did not again blench at the suggestion of a fight with the Spaniards. He laughed.
"My heart! 'Tis easy to see you be a new man in this new world, sir. The stains of logwood don't worrit me; 'tis a noble dye, you must own, and many's the noble garment that has been dyed for a Spaniard's madam out o' the logwood I've cut. But since it offends your innocent eye, I'll e'en don the knave's coat afore I put him out o' sight in earth too good for him."
Overjoyed at the man's recovered spirits, Dennis hastened, as they went on with their task, to press his advantage.
"You are two enemies the less, Amos—nay, three, counting the knave we have in pound among the trees yonder. What say you to our making a shift to put a few more in the same case?"
"What mean you, sir?"