of Blackbeard, and he
has a wholesome scare of meeting the Colonel. But after dark I pledge my
life that neither he nor any other in the town would pass the churchyard
wall, no, not for a thousand pounds.'
I heard him chuckling to himself, and the others laughed loudly too, when
he was telling how he palmed me off; but 'he laughs loudest who laughs
last', thought I, and should have chuckled too, were it not for making
the coffin creak. And then, to my surprise, Elzevir spoke: 'The lad is
a brave lad; I would he were my son. He is David's age, and will make a
good sailor later on.'
They were simple words, yet pleasing to me; for Elzevir spoke as if he
meant them, and I had got to like him a little in spite of all his
grimness; and beside that, was sorry for his grief over his son. I was so
moved by what he said, that for a moment I was for jumping up and calling
out to him that I lay here and liked him well, but then thought better of
it, and so kept still.
The carrying was over, and I fancy they were all sitting on the ends of
kegs or leaning up against the pile; but could not see, and was still
much troubled with the torch smoke, though now and then I caught through
it a whiff of tobacco, which showed that some were smoking.
Then Greening, who had a singing voice for all his drawl, struck up
with--
Says the Cap'n to the crew,
We have slipt the revenue,
but Ratsey stopped him with a sharp 'No more of that; the words aren't
to our taste tonight, but come as wry as if the parson called _Old
Hundred_ and I tuned up with _Veni_.' I knew he meant the last verse
with a hanging touch in it; but Greening was for going on with the song,
until some others broke in too, and he saw that the company would have
none of it.
'Not but what the labourer is worthy of his hire,' went on Master Ratsey;
'so spile that little breaker of Schiedam, and send a rummer round to
keep off midnight chills.'
He loved a glass of the good liquor well, and with him 'twas always the
same reasoning, namely, to keep off chills; though he chopped the words
to suit the season, and now 'twas autumn, now winter, now spring, or
summer chills.
They must have found glasses, though I could not remember to have seen
any in the vault, for a minute later fugleman Ratsey spoke again--
'Now, lads, glasses full and bumpers for a toast. And here's to
Blackbeard, to Father Blackbeard, who watches over our treasure better
than he did over his own; f
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