And yet it is a very fair world peop1ed with
giants and fairies; where castles lift their grim, embattled towers;
where magic woods and forests cast their shade, full of strange
beasts; where knights ride forth with lance in rest and their armour
shining in the sun. And right well we know them. There is Roland,
Sir William Wallace, and Hereward the Wake; Ivanhoe, the Black
Knight, and bold Robin Hood. There is Amyas Leigh, old Salvation
Yeo, and that lovely rascal Long John Silver. And there, too, is
King Arthur, with his Knights of the Round Table - but the throng
is very great, and who could name them all?
So the Imp and I sailed away into this wonderful world of romance
aboard our gallant vessel, which, like any other pirate ship that
ever existed - in books or out of them - "luffed, and filling upon
another tack, stood away in pursuit of the Spanish treasure galleon
in the offing."
What pen could justly describe the fight which followed - how guns
roared and pistols flashed, while the air was full of shouts and
cries and the thundering din of battle; how Scarlet Sam foamed and
stamped and flourished his cutlass; how Timothy Bone piped his
whistle as a bo'sun should? We had already sunk five great galleons
and were hard at work with a sixth, which was evidently in a bad
way, when Scarlet Sam ceased foaming and pointed over my shoulder
with his dripping blade.
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