We did our best, and our best was very much. When I think of the
songs the minister sang; of the roars of laughter that went up from
the lounging pirates when, sitting astride one of the main-deck
guns, he made his voice call to them, now from the hold, now from
the stern gallery, now from the masthead, now from the gilt sea
maid upon the prow, I laugh too. Sometimes a space was cleared
for him, and he played to them as to the pit at Blackfriars. They
laughed and wept and swore with delight, - all save the Spaniard,
who was ever like a thundercloud, and Paradise, who only smiled
like some languid, side-box lord. There was wine on board, and
during the long, idle days, when the wind droned in the rigging
like a bagpipe, and there was never a cloud in the sky, and the
galleons were still far away, the pirates gambled and drank.
Diccon diced with them, and taught them all the oaths of a free
company. So much wine, and no more, should they have; when
they frowned, I let them see that their frowning and their
half-drawn knives mattered no doit to me. It was their whim - a
huge jest of which they could never have enough - still to make
believe that they sailed under Kirby. Lest it should spoil the jest,
and while the jest outranked all other entertainment, they obeyed
as though I had been indeed that fierce sea wolf.
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