"My lady?" said I, sitting up. "My lady—Joan?"
"Aye, verily—"
"Then 'tis true—all true!" said I, and fell a-trembling. "My lady's here?"
"She is, Martin, and more's the pity. For look'ee, having boarded yon devil's craft and cut down such as resisted, I was very properly for hanging such as remained, when down on me comes my lady and is for carrying the rogues to trial, the which is but vain labour and loss o' time, since each and all of my twenty and three prisoners is bound to swing soon or late, as I told her, but, 'No matter, Sir Adam,' says she. 'Law is law, Sir Adam,' quo' she. When cometh Godby, running, to say the cursed ship was afire, and coming to the main hatchway, I beheld, half-strangled in the smoke, yourself, shipmate, and a woman in your arms—"
"Ha—'twas Joanna!" said I, leaping in the bed. "What of her, Adam—what of her, man?"
"A fine woman, I'll allow, Martin, and by her looks a lady of quality—"
"Say a demon rather—a very she-devil!"
"Why, as you will, Martin, as you will!" said he. "Only rest you, lest the fever take you again."
"How was I wounded, then?"
"A flying splinter in the head, Martin, so Surgeon Penruddock says. But then you have a marvellous stout skull, as I do know, shipmate."