Dick was no less pleased; he loved his boat and derived more pleasure from showing it off than from anything else in the world. He took her from end to end, telling her tales of hairbreadth escapes and secret cargoes of papers and documents. Indeed, carried away by his own enthusiasm he even hinted that good King Charles owed more to Dick Delfazio’s courage than His Majesty was aware of.
Anny listened to him open-mouthed, as he talked on, embroidering his tales with a network of fine and polished phrases, and interrupting them here and there to shout an order or swear at an unhandy sailor as the man hurried to obey him.
When at last the greater part of the company which had followed Dick from the Ship stood on the deck of the Coldlight, he opened the proceedings after the custom of the Island by calling for rum all round.
After the toast, the whole crowd, which was by this time very boisterous, congregated in the forepart of the ship to inspect the figurehead which was at the moment covered with a piece of sail-cloth.
Dick with his inborn love of dramatic effect had seen to this, and now stepping forward he whipped it off with a flourish and stepped back, observing with delight the impression it was making.
Old Ned Hutton, the ship’s carpenter, was certainly not an artist, but he had done his best, and all that paint and a chunk of rough-hewn wood could do had been done. The figure was undoubtedly meant to represent Anny and that was enough for Mersea folk. Everybody cheered loudly, and Dick called for more rum. Then he and the girl went forward to examine the figurehead more closely.
The ugly awkward thing was profusely decorated with gold paint; so much Anny could see by the light of the lantern which Dick gallantly held for her, and her name, “ANNY,” was painted on the bright blue band that went round the figure’s black head.
“’Tis lovely,” she whispered half to herself as she ran her fingers over the great arms and breasts on which the paint was hardly dry.
Dick smiled and made her the obvious compliment, and they went down to the bows and leaned over the gunwale so as to see the four great white letters, “ANNY,” painted on the smooth brown sides.
The girl was delighted, and her infectious gurgling laugh rang out clearly several times on the cold air as she listened to Dick’s sparkling conversation.