human
Adam, said I at last,
gpt
Some hundred and fifty miles, maybe a little less.
human
Why, then, give me a boat.
gpt
A boat?
human
Aye, a boat, I nodded.
gpt
You cast me adrift once, you'll mind--well--do so again!
human
And what o' my Lady Joan? Ha--will ye tell me you've quarrelled already in true lover-like fashion--is this it?
gpt
quoth I,
human
Lord! said he,
gpt
Lord love me, Martin! Here you've scarce found her and now eager to lose her again--heaven save me from love and lovers--
human
Give me a boat.
gpt
A boat? said he, pinching his chin.
human
A boat, is it? Why, very well, Martin--a boat! Ha, here me-thinks is the very hand o' Providence, and who am I to gainsay it? You shall have the longboat, Martin, well stored and armed; 'tis a goodly boat that I am loth to part with--but seeing 'tis you, comrade, why very well. Only you must bide till it be dark for reasons obvious--
gpt
So be it! I nodded.
human
And if you could give me a chart and set me a course how to steer for Nombre de Dios, I should be grateful, Adam.
gpt
Why, so I will, Martin. A course to Nombre--aye, verily! 'Tis said one Sir Richard Brandon lieth 'prisoned there. Ha--having quarrelled with daughter you speed away to sire--
human
And what then?
gpt
Nought, Martin, nought in the world, only if in this world is a fool--art surely he, comrade. Nay, never rage against your true friend, comrade; give me your arm, let me aid you up to my cabin, for your legs are yet overly weak, I doubt.