"Aye, Cap'n—aye?"
"And I—missed him, Joel—with both weapons and I within three yards of him, aye, I missed him with both pistols."
"Which is small wonder," says I, "for as you fired he tripped over me, Adam—"
"And why should he trip just then—at the one and only moment, Martin? Chance, says you? Why, when he came leaping on me in the black dark should his hook meet and turn my knife from his throat? Chance again, says you? Why, when he flung me off and made for the window—why must I catch my foot 'gainst that staff o' yours and bring up against the wall with all the strength and breath knocked out o' me, and no chance for one thrust as he clambered through the lattice? By the Lord, Martin, here's more than chance, says I."
"Aye, by cock!" muttered Joel, shaking his head. "'Tis 'witched he be! You'll mind what I told ye, Cap'n—the poor lady as died raving mad aboard the 'Delight,' how she died cursing him wi' life. And him standing by a-polishing o' that hook o' his—ah, Cap'n, I'll never forget the work o' that same hook ... many's the time ... Bartlemy's prisoners ... men and women ... aboard that cursed 'Ladies' Delight!' By cock, I dream on't sometimes and wake all of a sweat—"
"Here's no time for dreams!" says Penfeather, ramming home the charge of his second pistol, "Is the passage clear?"
"Save for the matter of a few kegs, Cap'n, but 'twill serve."
"We start in half an hour, Joel."
"The three o' you, Cap'n?"
"Aye, we must be aboard as soon as maybe now."