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Updated: May 3, 2025
And now, get up, Job begone, Job, arter your pal, and tell folk as kind Godby, though sore tempted, never so much as set finger on your liver, and all along o' your good old mother away wi' ye!" "Pal," says the little peddler, reaching out and grasping my hand, "here's full quittance for that pannikin o' water as you never got! And now what's the word?"
Meantime take this dunnage down to the boat," and he pointed to the valise. Hereupon one of the fellows took it up, and knuckled an eyebrow to us in turn. "We sail at sundown," says Adam, "so, Godby, you may as well go aboard and see that all be ready." "Aye, aye!" says Godby, tightening the belt where swung his great cutlass and, shouldering his musket, set off after the three.
Pride and bilge-water go well together!" which said he brought me to a dark unlovely hole abaft the mizzen. "'Tis none too clean, Martin," says he, casting the light round the dingy place, "but that shall be remedied and Godby shall bring ye bedding and the like, so although 'tis plaguy dark and wi' rats a-plenty still, despite the stench, you'll lie snug as your pride will permit of.
And yet, plague and perish it here's me warned off my pitch, here's me wi' the damned catchpolls on my heels, and all along o' this same Gregory Bragg rot him!" "As to all that, I know not," says I, "but this I'll swear to, you are a man, Godby the peddler, and one with a bold and kindly heart inside you." "How so?" he questioned, his bright eyes all of a twinkle. "How so, my bully boy?"
"God-be-here Jenkins am I, master," said Godby, "and well beknown to Joel Bym as keepeth this house, strangle me else ask Joel! And if you're Master Penfeather I've first, this here for ye, and second, a warning." And speaking, Godby drew a letter from the breast of his leathern jerkin. "A warning?" says Penfeather, glancing at the superscription, "Against whom?"
"I never heard any thing of the kind hinted at before, I assure you," said Elinor. "Oh, did not you? But it WAS said, I know, very well, and by more than one; for Miss Godby told Miss Sparks, that nobody in their senses could expect Mr.
Penfeather drew clenched hand across his brow, and coming to the table reached the half-emptied flagon and drank what remained of the wine thirstily, while Bym, his great body huddled in the chair, stared at the bullet hole in the shutter with starting eyes: as to me, I picked up Penfeather's fallen pistols and laid them on the table, where Godby had set the lanthorn.
Someone reeled staggering across the room, came a-scrabbling at the open casement and, as I leapt up, the door burst open and Joel Bym appeared flourishing a naked hanger and with Godby behind bearing a lanthorn, whose flickering light showed Adam, knife in hand, where he leaned panting against the wall, a smear of blood across his pallid face and with shirt and doublet torn in horrid fashion.
"How, are ye going and never a word?" quoth I as Godby crossed to the door. "Aye, I am!" says he, with gaze still averted. "Why you left me in mighty hurry last time, Godby," "Aye, I did!" says he. "Why then tell us wherefore speak out, man." "Not I, Martin, not I!" says he, and touching his bonnet to Penfeather hasted away. "Ha!" says Adam, closing and locking the door.
"And wind!" says I as the stout ship reeled and plunged to the howling gust. "No, Mart'n," roared Godby above the piping tumult, "not real wind, pal a stiffish breeze jolly capful."
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