“At the fort. They are all at the fort or on the bank below. Oh, sirs, a woeful day for us all!”
“A woeful day!” I exclaimed. “What’s the matter?”
The man, whom I recognized as one of the commander’s servants, a fellow with the soul of a French valet de chambre, was wild with terror.
“They are at the guns!” he quavered. “Alackaday! What can a few sakers and demi-culverins do against them?”
“Against whom?” I cried.
“They are giving out pikes and cutlasses! Woe’s me, the sight of naked steel hath ever made me sick!”
I drew my dagger and flashed it before him. “Does’t make you sick?” I asked. “You shall be sicker yet, if you do not speak to some purpose.”
The fellow shrank back, his eyeballs starting from his head.
“It’s a tall ship,” he gasped, “a very big ship! It hath ten culverins, beside fowlers and murderers, sakers, falcons, and bases!”
I took him by the collar and shook him off his feet.