"D'ye know why we are put to all this pother?" he asked. "D'ye know who our friends are yonder?" He jerked his head towards the pursuing ship.
Lachlan shook his head.
"That ship," Falcon continued, "is named the Merry Amy and she is commanded by a gentleman of some fame upon the seas From his amiable disposition he is known as Black Lowther, and, like myself, he is a privateer of somewhat easy conscience who does not quite understand where privateering ends and piracy begins. Once, in the Gulf of Florida, I stole from him a prize that he had taken, and he swore by his favourite saint that he would cut off my ears and feed my heart to his pet dog. His ship being twice as large as the Good Fortune and carrying eighteen guns to our eight, he conceives that he has his opportunity now."
He ceased and stood silent a few moments, his hands gripping the wheel, his narrowed eyes fixed on the sea ahead. He glanced aloft, shouted an order, then turned again to Lachlan.
"It may happen after all, sir," he said calmly, "that I shall have to drown you like a rat instead of killing you like a gentleman. If I am forced to that necessity presently, you will please blame this inconvenient fellow, Lowther, who has interrupted our little affair."
