"Die he shall, yes!" said she at last. "Die he must, but in proper fashion and time, not by such vermin as you—so put up that knife! You hear me, yes?"
"Hanged my comrade Jem, a did, along o' many others o' the Fellowship!" growled the squat man, flourishing his knife, "Moreover the Cap'n says 'blind' says he, so blind it is, says I, and this the knife to—" The growling voice was drowned in the roar of a pistol and, dropping his knife, the fellow screamed and caught at his hurt.
"And there's for you, yes!" said Joanna, smiling into the man's agonised face, "Be thankful I spared your worthless life. Crawl into the boat, worm, and wait till I'm minded to patch up your hurt—Go!"
For a moment was silence, then came a great gust of laughter, and men clapped and pummelled each other.
"La Culebra!" they roared. "'Tis our Jo, 'tis Fighting Jo, sure and sartain; 'tis our luck, the luck o' the Brotherhood—ha, Joanna!"
But, tossing aside the smoking pistol, Joanna scowled from them to their captain.
"Hola, Belvedere," said she. "Your dogs do grow out of hand; 'tis well I'm back again. Now for these my prisoners, seize 'em up, bind 'em fast and heave 'em aboard ship."
"Aye, but," said Belvedere, fingering his beard, "why aboard, Jo, when we may do their business here and prettily. Yon's a tree shall make notable good gallows or—look now, here's right plenty o' kindling, and driftwood shall burn 'em merrily and 'twill better please the lads—"
"But then I do pleasure myself, yes. So aboard ship they go!"
"Why, look now, Jo," said Belvedere, biting at his thumb, "'tis ever my rule to keep no prisoners—"