"And here's sure proof of it!" quoth she.
"Mayhap 'twill serve once her timbers be swelled."
"Aye, she may float, Martino, so long as the sea prove kind and the wind gentle; aye, she should carry us both over to the Main handsomely, yes—"
"Never!" quoth I, mighty determined.
"How then—will ye deny me yet, fool? Wherefore would ye leave me here, curst Englishman?"
"Lest you goad me into slaying you for the evil thing you are."
"What evil have I wrought you?"
"You would have poisoned me but yesterday—"
"Yet to-day are you strong and hearty, fool."
And indeed, now I came to think of it, I felt myself as hale and well as ever in all my life. "Tush—a fico!" says she with an evil gesture. "'Twas but an Indian herb, fool, and good 'gainst colic and calenture. Now wherefore will ye be quit o' me?"