In an instant the little Spaniard was the centre of an enthusiastic group, for, since his first coming to the Ship, Dick had done much to make himself popular, and now his deep musical voice was raised good-naturedly above the din calling for rum all round and sack for those who wished for it.
Hal and Sue darted about in obedience to his order and soon the company stood, silent, mugs in hand, waiting for the toast. At this moment the inner door opened and Anny, dressed in the purple gown that Sue had given her, stepped into the kitchen.
Dick was at her side in a moment, and respectfully taking her hand led her into the centre of the room.
“Ann of the Island, her health and beauty for ever!” he shouted, his tankard high above his head. The toast was given boisterously, and Anny blushed and smiled shyly.
Old Gilbot was enjoying himself thoroughly and took advantage of a lull in the conversation to exclaim:
“Let’sh have a shong,” and then without any more ado began to quaver “Pretty Poll” at the top of his voice.
The company took up the burden and the final “Lost in the rolling sea” was bellowed till the rafters shook.
“More rum,” called Dick, and then as though obeying an impulse of the moment he sprang upon one of the forms and resting one foot on the tresselled table, exclaimed,
“Hark ye, dogs, here is a new song, mine own song, a song of Dick Delfazio’s own composing.”
And then throwing back his head he began to sing in a remarkably true tenor voice, swaying his body in tune to his own music: