human
Ha, d'ye stir at last, sluggard? Here's Joanna been direly sick--speak low, she sleeps at last, poor lass--and me stiff o' my wounds, clemmed wi' hunger and parched wi' thirst, you a-snoring and a sea worse than Jonah's afore they hove him to the whale--
gpt
Why not wake me, then? I demanded, creeping aft and beholding Joanna where she lay slumbering, pale and worn beneath weather-stained cloak.
human
Why not rouse me, Resolution?
gpt
Because she forbade me and her word is my law, d'ye see? Reach me a sup o' rum from the locker yonder.
human
You have brought us safe through the tempest, then,
gpt
Aye, Joanna and I, and despite her qualms and sickness, poor lass, and you a-snoring! Here, having drained the pannikin of rum, his eye lost something of its ferocity and he nodded.
human
Twice we came nigh swamping i' the dark but the Lord interposed to save His own yet a little, and you a-snoring, but here was Joanna's hand on the tiller and mine on the sail and plaguing the Almighty wi' prayers of a righteous, meek, long-suffering and God-fearing man and behold, comrade, here we are, safe in the lee of Mizzen Island, and yonder is creek very apt to our purpose. So stand by to let go the halyard and ship oars when I give word, _amigo_.
gpt
She seems very worn with her sickness, Resolution!
human
She is, friend! he nodded.
gpt
She never could abide rough seas from a child, d'ye see, brother, and her wound troubleth her yet--but never a word o' complaint, comrade--aha, a great soul, a mighty spirit is hers, for all her woman's slenderness, Martin! Now, let fly your halyard, douse your sail--so! Now ship oars and pull, _camarado_, pull!