Dick laughed.
“Pretty!” he said. “Ah, fair Anny, I would not send the blood from those bright cheeks of thine by telling thee what this same dagger and this right hand have together accomplished.”
“Oh, never mind the wenches, Captain, let’s have the story,” said one of the group at the fire, the company’s attention having been drawn to the Spaniard on the appearance of the knife. Black’erchief Dick stood up.
“Sack for everyone,” he said grandiloquently as he threw another handful of coins on the tressled table. And then as the tankards were passed round, “To the fairest wench on the Island, Fair Anny of the Ship,” he said, lifting his tankard above his head.
The toast was given with a will. The Spaniard was in a fair way to win popularity.
“’Tis a fine gentleman, Hal,” whispered Anny to her sweetheart under cover of the general hub-bub.
“Ay, a deal too fine,” replied the boy, putting a pot down with such violence that all the others rattled and clinked against one another with the shock.
Anny laughed.
“Thou art very foolish, O Hal o’ mine,” she said softly.
“There be more tales to tell o’ this dagger than will suffice for one evening.”