struggling, and bidding us let him go on with the fight, though every
step he took in the sand was in a pool of blood; and so we got off. And
tell me, ye sons of shotten herrings, wasn't it worth more to save him
than the dirty silver? for silver we can get again, brave boys: there's
more fish in the sea than ever came out of it, and more silver in Nombre
de Dios than would pave all the streets in the west country: but of such
captains as Franky Drake, Heaven never makes but one at a time; and if
we lose him, good-bye to England's luck, say I, and who don't agree, let
him choose his weapons, and I'm his man."

He who delivered this harangue was a tall and sturdy personage, with a
florid black-bearded face, and bold restless dark eyes, who leaned, with
crossed legs and arms akimbo, against the wall of the house; and seemed
in the eyes of the schoolboy a very magnifico, some prince or duke at
least. He was dressed (contrary to all sumptuary laws of the time) in
a suit of crimson velvet, a little the worse, perhaps, for wear; by his
side were a long Spanish rapier and a brace of daggers, gaudy enough
about the hilts; his fingers sparkled with rings; he had two or three
gold chains about his neck, and large earrings in his ears, behind one
of which a red rose was stuck jauntily enough among the glossy black
curls; on his head was a broad velvet Spanish hat, in which instead of a
feather was fastened with a great gold clasp a whole Quezal bird, whose
gorgeous plumage of fretted golden green shone like one entire precious
stone. As he finished his speech, he took off the said hat, and looking
at the bird in it--

"Look ye, my lads, did you ever see such a fowl as that before? That's
the bird which the old Indian kings of Mexico let no one wear but their
own selves; and therefore I wear it,--I, John Oxenham of South Tawton,
for a sign to all brave lads of Devon, that as the Spaniards are the