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And ye would have me eat with you and your hands not washed from killing? But Sir Daniel hath sworn your downfall. He 'tis that will avenge me!" The unfortunate Dick was plunged in gloom. Old Arblaster returned upon his mind, and he groaned aloud. "Do ye hold me so guilty?" he said; "you that defended me you that are Joanna's friend?" "What made ye in the battle?" she retorted.
"Turn me him to the moon," said the skipper; and taking Dick by the chin, he cruelly jerked his head into the air. "Blessed Virgin!" he cried, "it is the pirate!" "Hey!" cried Tom. "By the Virgin of Bordeaux, it is the man himself!" repeated Arblaster. "What, sea-thief, do I hold you?" he cried. "Where is my ship? Where is my wine? Hey! have I you in my hands?
"I would look gladly on a pottle of strong ale, good Master Pirret," returned Arblaster. "How say ye, Tom? But then the wallet is empty." "I will pay," said the other "I will pay. I would fain see this matter out; I do believe, upon my conscience, there is gold in it." "Nay, if ye get again to drinking, all is lost!" cried Tom.
It doth appear, indeed, that ye have somewhat abused our gossip Arblaster; but what then? Make it up to him show him but this chance to become wealthy and I will go pledge he will forgive you."
Pretty soon a second measure of mulled ale was called for; and while Dick was still artfully spinning out the incidents a third followed the second. Here was the position of the parties towards the end: Arblaster, three-parts drunk and one-half asleep, hung helpless on his stool. Even Tom had been much delighted with the tale, and his vigilance had abated in proportion.
Skipper Arblaster, a long-faced, elderly, weather-beaten man, with a knife hanging about his neck by a plaited cord, and for all the world like any modern seaman in his gait and bearing, had hung back in obvious amazement and distrust.
That worthy now assumed the lead, and conducted them to the very same rude alehouse where Lawless had taken Arblaster on the day of the gale.
It was now quite deserted; the fire was a pile of red embers, radiating the most ardent heat; and when they had chosen their places, and the landlord had set before them a measure of mulled ale, both Pirret and Arblaster stretched forth their legs and squared their elbows like men bent upon a pleasant hour.
"Bring me him back into the alehouse, till I see his face," said Arblaster. "Nay, nay," returned Tom; "but let us first unload his wallet, lest the other lads cry share." But though he was searched from head to foot, not a penny was found upon him; nothing but Lord Foxham's signet, which they plucked savagely from his finger.
"Sit down, Folkestone," said Montgomery, holding his companion's sleeve with a firm grip, whilst gazing steadily northward through the narrow fringe of timber. Following his eye, I saw a horseman, a mile and a half distant, heading for the homestead at a walk. "Is that Arblaster, Collins?" demanded the squatter. I brought my binocular to bear on the horseman. "Nelson," I replied. "Better still.
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