"Ah! Doctor, you don't mean that, I know," said a rich soft voice
at his elbow.

It was Sarah Purfoy emerging from her cabin.

"Here is the wench!" cries Blunt. "We are talking of your eyes,
my dear." "Well, they'll bear talking about, captain, won't they?"
asked she, turning them full upon him.

"By the Lord, they will!" says Blunt, smacking his hand on the table.
"They're the finest eyes I've seen in my life, and they've got
the reddest lips under 'm that--"

"Let me pass, Captain Blunt, if you please. Thank you, doctor."

And before the admiring commander could prevent her, she modestly
swept out of the cuddy.

"She's a fine piece of goods, eh?" asked Blunt, watching her.
"A spice o' the devil in her, too."

Old Pine took a huge pinch of snuff.

"Devil! I tell you what it is, Blunt. I don't know where
Vickers picked her up, but I'd rather trust my life with the worst
of those ruffians 'tween decks, than in her keeping,
if I'd done her an injury."

Blunt laughed.