CHAPTER XVII. HOW THE YELLOW COG CROSSED THE BAR OF GIRONDE.

onginthefaceasthedevilatachristening,andIcannotmarvelatit,forIhavesailedthesewaterssinceIwasashighasthiswhinyard,andyetIneversawmoresurepromiseofanevilnight.” “Nay,Ihadotherthingsuponmymind,”thesquireanswered. “Andsohaseveryman,”criedHawtayneinaninjuredvoice.“Lettheshipmanseetoit.Itisthemaster-shipman'saffair.PutitallupongoodMasterHawtayne!NeverhadIsomuchcaresincefirstIblewtrumpetandshowedcartelatthewestgateofSouthampton.” “Whatisamissthen?”askedAlleyne,fortheman'swordswereasgustyastheweather. “Amiss,quotha?HereamIwithbuthalfmymariners,andaholeintheshipwherethattwenty-devilstonestruckusbigenoughtofitthefatwidowofNorthamthrough.Itiswellenoughonthistack,butIwouldhaveyoutellmewhatIamtodoontheother.WeareliketohavesaltwateruponusuntilwebefoundpickledliketheherringsinanEasterling'sbarrels.” “WhatsaysSirNigeltoit?” “Heisbelowprickingoutthecoat-armorofhismother'suncle.'Pestermenotwithsuchsmallmatters!'wasallthatIcouldgetfromhim.ThenthereisSirOliver.'FrytheminoilwithadressingofGascony,'quothhe,andthensworeatmebecauseIhadnotbeenthecook.'Walawa,'thoughtI,'madmaster,soberman'—soawayforwardtothearchers.Harrowandalas!buttheywereworsethantheothers.” “Wouldtheynothelpyouthen?” “Nay,theysattwayandtwayataboard,himthattheycallAylwardandthegreatred-headedmanwhosnappedtheNorman'sarm-bone,andtheblackmanfromNorwich,andascoreofothers,rattlingtheirdiceinanarcher'sgauntletforwantofabox.'Theshipcanscarcelastmuchlonger,mymasters,'quothI.'Thatisyourbusiness,oldswine's-head,'criedtheblackgalliard.'Lediablet'emporte,'saysAylward.'Afive,afourandthemain,'shoutedthebigman,withavoiceliketheflapofasail.Harktothemnow,youngsir,andsayifIspeaknotsooth.” Ashespoke,theresoundedhighabovetheshriekofthegaleandthestrainingofthetimbersagustofoathswitharoarofdeep-chestedmirthfromthegamblersintheforecastle. “CanIbeofavail?”askedAlleyne.“Saythewordandthethingisdone,iftwohandsmaydoit.” “Nay,nay,yourheadIcanseeisstilltotty,andi'faithlittleheadwouldyouhave,hadyourbassinetnotstoodyourfriend.Allthatmaybedoneisalreadycarriedout,forwehavestuffedthegapewithsailsandcordeditwithoutandwithin.Yetwhenwebaleourbowlineandveerthesheetourliveswillhanguponthebreachremainingblocked.Seehowyonderheadlandloomsuponusthroughthemist!Wemusttackwithinthreearrowflights,orwemayfindarockthroughourtimbers.Now,St.Christopherbepraised!hereisSirNigel,withwhomImayconfer.” “Iprytheethatyouwillpardonme,”saidtheknight,clutchinghiswayalongthebulwark.“Iwouldnotshowlackofcourtesytowardaworthyman,butIwasdeepinamatterofsomeweight,concerningwhich,Alleyne,Ishouldbegladofyourrede.Ittouchesthequestionofdimidiationorimpalementinthe