"An Englishwoman is sailing with me. She's down on the Defiance."
"The Defiance?"
"My Spanish brig."
"Oui, but of course. I heard how you acquired it." He laughed and stroked his beard. "Alors, tomorrow you must bring this Anglaise of yours up and let me meet her. Show her how your old friend has made his way in the world."
"That depends. I thought we'd empty a tankard or two tonight and talk a bit."
"Bon. Nothing better." He signaled to de Fontenay for a refill, and the young man quickly stepped forward with the flask. "Tonight we remember old times."
Winston laughed. "Could be there're a few things about the old days we'd best let be. So maybe I'll just work on this fine brandy of yours and hear how you're getting along these days with our good friends the Spaniards."
"Ah, Anglais, we get on very well. I have garroted easily a hundred of those bastards for every one of ours they killed back then, and taken enough cargo to buy a kingdom. You know, if their Nuevo Espana Armada, the one that ships home silver from their mines in Mexico, is a week overdue making the Canary Islands, the King of Spain and all his creditors from Italy to France cannot shit for worrying I might have taken it. Someday, my friend, I will."
"Good. I'll drink to it." Winston lifted his tankard. "To the Spaniards."
Jacques laughed. "Oui. And may they always be around to keep me rich."