“And now he is enamoured with an Island wench?” she said, feeling that the Captain had somehow lowered his standard of romance.
“Ay,” said Blueneck, “but ’tis a new affair this time; before, it was the wenches who sighed for the Captain and the Captain who laughed and was merry, but this time it is the wench who is merry and the Captain”—he laughed—“oh, the Captain is bewitched,” he said.
“Indeed!” Mistress Pullen looked surprised. “I wonder that Mistress Sue would brook the affair in her uncle’s house.”
“Ho! ho! ho!” Blueneck laughed, his earrings glittering in the firelight. “Mistress Sue? Why, Mistress Amy, that lass would give her ears to get a fair look from Black’erchief Dick. I warrant you Master French is well-nigh mad at her neglect.”
Mistress Pullen sighed at the waywardness of youth and went on with her sewing.
“Ah, and that’s another thing,” said Blueneck. “Did you know that Master French was prevented from going to Tiptree last Tuesday?”
“Prevented! Were there excise men on the Stroud?” Mistress Amy spoke quickly, voicing the fear of all the Island smugglers.
The Stroud, a narrow, bridge-like road across the mud, was the one connection the Island had with the mainland, and once the officers of the law held it, there was no telling what dangers would be involved.
Blueneck smiled.
“Nay,” he said, “they will be as foolish as ever they were. Nay, there was some talk about the goods, and the Captain swore that he would not rest another night at the Victory, and that if Master French wanted aught from him he must come to the Ship and fetch it. So he had to return.”