Pet came in presently and he saw that she was growing fast like Ben, rum-sodden and old. She smiled when she saw him and he thought how horribly pale her toothless gums showed across the flaming purple redness of her face.
“Now, master, mate of the Coldlight, I bargain with thee,” she began as she handed him his clothes newly dried and motioned him to dress.
Blueneck said nothing but took his garments and began to put them on.
“Methinks your captain, the Spanish Dick, has set eyes on a pretty wench,” she said slowly.
The sailor did not look up; he was mournfully regarding his best doublet coat stained and faded with salt water.
“Oh, there be many pretty wenches who have had his eyes upon them,” he said carelessly.
Pet swore roundly and with such vehemence that he glanced at her.
“But one particular wench?” she went on, relapsing again into quietness. “I have long ears.”
Blueneck, who was slow of comprehension, looked at her in surprise; her remark struck him as being strangely irrelevant.
“I hear what is said on the Island,” the old woman continued. “I know your captain hath a great liking for Ann Farran, Ben’s gran’daughter.”