human
Joanna hath her whimsies, and here's one of 'em!
gpt
I were a-saying to Job, quoth the man Diccon, thrusting me roughly beyond reach of Belvedere's heavy foot,
human
Tush! said Belvedere, with an oath.
gpt
Pompey would quarter him wi' naked hands.
human
I was a-saying to Job I would wager my share in the voyage on this fellow, Belvedere!
gpt
Aye, Cap'n, growled Job,
human
Aye--why! cried Belvedere, gnashing his teeth.
gpt
Ask her--go ask Joanna, the curst jade.
human
She be only a woman, when all's said, Cap'n--
gpt
Nay, Job, quoth Belvedere, shaking his head.
human
She's Joanna and behind her do lie Tressady and Sol and Rory and Abnegation Mings--and all the Fellowship. So if she says he lives, lives it is, to lie soft and feed dainty, curse him. Let me die if I don't wish I'd left her on the island to end him her own way--wi' steel or kindness--
gpt
Kindness! said Diccon, with an ugly leer.
human
Why, there it is, Cap'n; she's off wi' the old and on wi' the new, like--
gpt
Not yet, by God! snarled Belvedere 'twixt shut teeth and scowling down on me while his hand clawed at the pistol in his belt; then his gaze wandered from me towards the poop and back again.
human
Curse him! said he, stamping in his impotent fury.
gpt
I'd give a handful o' gold pieces to see him dead and be damned!
human
Why, then, here's a lad to earn 'em, quoth Job,
gpt
Aye, but what o' Joanna, what o' that she-snake, ha?
human
What is't, Job lad? Speak fair and the money's good as yourn--
gpt
Aye, but it ain't mine yet, Cap'n, so mum it but I've a plan.
human
Belay, Job! exclaimed Diccon.
gpt
Easy all. Yonder she cometh.
human
Hola, Belvedere, mon Capitan! said she, glancing about her quick-eyed.
gpt
You keep your ship very foul, yes. Dirt to dirt!--ah? But I am aboard and this shall be amended--look to it. And your mizzen yard is sprung; down with it and sway up another--
human
Aye, aye, Jo, said Belvedere, nodding.
gpt
It shall be done--
human
quoth she, frowning.
gpt
This doth not suit when I am aboard, no! The new yard must be rigged now, at once, for we sail with the flood--_voilà_!
human
Sail, Jo? said Belvedere, staring.
gpt
Can't be, Jo!
human
And wherefore?
gpt
Why--we be short o' water, for one thing.
human
Ah--bah, we shall take all we want from other ships!
gpt
And the lads be set, heart and soul, on a few days ashore.
human
But then--I am set, my heart, my soul, on heaving anchor so soon as the tide serves. We will sail with the flood. Now see the new yard set up and have this slave Martin o' mine to my cabin.
gpt
So--ho! quoth he.
human
Captain Jo says we sail, and sail it is, hey?
gpt
Blind you! cried Belvedere, turning on him in a fury.
human
Go forward and turn out two o' the lads to draw this carcass aft!
gpt
Sail wi' the flood, is it? growled Job.
human
And us wi' scarce any water and half on us rotten wi' scurvy or calenture, an' no luck this cruise, neither! 'Sail wi' the flood,' says she--'be damned,' says I. By hookey, but I marvel she lives; I wonder no one don't snuff her out for good an' all--aye, burn me but I do!
gpt
Because you're a fool, Job, and don't know her like we do. She's 'La Culebra,' and why? Because she's quick as any snake and as deadly. Besides, she's our luck and luck she'll bring us; she always do. Whatever ship she's aboard of has all the luck, wind, weather, and--what's better, rich prizes, Job. I know it and the lads forrad know it, and Belvedere he knows it and is mighty feared of her and small blame either--aye, and mayhap you'll be afeard of her when you know her better. 'She's only a woman,' says you. 'True,' says I. But in all this here world there ain't her match, woman or man, and you can lay to that, my lad.