"And so she is a queen," I said, not being able to keep from speaking, for very pride to hear how she had borne herself, and because she had always shown kindness to me. "So she is, and fairer than any queen to boot."
Ratsey gave me a questioning look, and I could see a little smile upon his face in the firelight. "Ay, she is fair enough," said he, as though reflecting to himself, "but white and thin. Mayhap she would make a match for thee—if ye were man and woman, and not boy and girl; if she were not rich, and thou not poor and an outlaw; and—if she would have thee."
It vexed me to hear his banter, and to think how I had let my secret out, so I did not answer, and we sat by the embers for a while without speaking, while the wind still blew through the cave like a funnel.
Ratsey spoke first. "John, pass me the flask; I can hear voices mounting the cliff of those poor souls of the Florida."
With that he took another heavy pull, and flung a log on the fire, till sparks flew about as in a smithy, and the flame that had slumbered woke again and leapt out white, blue, and green from the salt wood. Now, as the light danced and flickered I saw a piece of parchment lying at Ratsey's feet: and this was none other than the writing out of Blackbeard's locket, which I had been reading, when I first heard footsteps in the passage, and had dropped in my alarm of hostile visitors. Ratsey saw it too, and stretched out his hand to pick it up. I would have concealed it if I could, because I had never told him how I had rifled Blackbeard's coffin, and did not want to be questioned as to how I had come
