her temper warm or cold,Be she tall or be she small,
Naught can we but love her.
A-dieu – a-dieu —
A-dieu, belle Marie-e!
Be she stout or be she lean —
Be she pauper, be she queen —
Be she fine or be she jade —
Be she wife or be she maid —
Here’s a toast to woman;
Here’s a health to woman!
A-dieu – A-dieu —
Adieu, belle Marie-e!”
The last two lines he sang in a melancholy drawl, holding his pot up and looking at it with one eye shut. This caused much applause and loud clapping. To this he tried to respond with more spirit, with a song and chorus which they afterwards sang frequently upon the ships. It was very fine and had a martial ring.
“I drink my wine
While others pine,
And toast a lady fair —
Chorus: And toast a lady fair!
And to the eyes
Of her I prize,
In Catharine’s vintage rare —
Chorus: In Catharine’s vintage rare!
I draw my steel
For woe or weal
With foemen of my mettle —
Chorus: With foemen of my mettle!
And teach the wight
Who fears to fight
To keep his blade in fettle
Chorus: To keep his blade in fettle!”
When the refrain had died away and the Frenchman had dropped back upon his bench, Goddard, in a fine spirit of amity, jumped again to his feet, trying to sing. He had no more notion of tune than an anchor stock, but roared in an ear-splitting way:
“Then fill a rousing cup wi’ me,
For there be naught to pay!
And drink to wee-man as she be
From France to far Cathay!”
He had reached a state of mind in which he cared little enough for king, priest, or the devil, and Salvation was in little better part, striving to preach a sermon in French, of which language he had no notion whatever. In the middle of his salty verse, Goddard was set upon by several of the younger men and lifted bodily upon the table. There he stood for a moment swaying awkwardly from one foot to the other, blinking at the light which swung to the rafters a foot from his nose.
Then he shouted,
“Mounseers, my voice is like the run of the topsail haulyard pollys. I can’t sing – an’ – blood an’ ouns! – I won’t sing.”
“Par la mort! try it again, try it, mon ami!”
“Non, mounseers, – but by the sakrey blue, I can keep a-givin’ ye healths so long as ye can stand – or sit – for the matter o’ that.”
“Bigre! It seems true that this sailor-man has a paunch like the great water duct of St. Michel. But give us your toast. What is it, then?”
“Yes, speak out, mon brave, some of us will understand you – diable n’importe! What is it?”
“Ye can comprenay or not, but – odds bobs! – Nay, Jem, I’ll say what I like. There may be traitors among us; but, ventre blue! I’m a free sailor of Queen Bess and fear no scut of a Spaniard as ever twisted a thumb-screw. The marrow-bones o’ the best ha’ kissed the dust this many a time. An’ will again for English an’ French, from this to Floridy an’ back agin.”
Some of the more timid in the crowd looked around half-fearfully and a warning “Sh!” came from the throats of some.
But Goddard was not to be daunted. He took a swig from his pot and raised his voice,
“Ye’ve started me now an’ hear me out, ye shall, ye maidens ye! To hell with Philip! I’ll tell ye why. Because there is money to be got in Spanish ships. One day soon Jem an’ me will sprinkle, not – hic – coppers, but gold, lads! Why, the San Cristobal had more gold than ye’ll find this side o’ Hesper-hades, with all ye’r talk o’ Floridy. The devil a better berth do we want than the Griffin. Master Davy Devil – hic – can smell the gold ten leagues at sea. An’ so, here’s that every – French – hic – captain may have the luck of Davy Devil!”
Here a whisp of a youth got up, drunk and quarrelsome.
“Monsieur, the sailor,” he said, “you speak – much of gold. You have – hic – captured many ships. Why therefore do we drink s-sack?”
Goddard put his hands to his hips and glared down at the boy. First his brows met and he did not know what to say. Then, as the humor struck him, he burst into a laugh.
“We drink sack because ’tis good for the entrails of hairy men. An’ till you grow a beard, me son, ’tis plain enough suet should do for you. But, ’twas a fair question. We drink – hic – sack because we have no gold. But wait! Wait all of ye another day or so an’ I promise the rarest in France to run down ye’re throats. Why, lads, – hic – Captain Sydney Killigrew hath upon his person in jewels the finest – hic – belt o’ treasure in all France, that – ”
He stopped and looked drunkenly from one to another. He was dumb with horror at having told the secret of Coligny’s treasure. His hands fell to his sides and the pot dropped to the table and floor, breaking another as it fell. Then something flew through the air crashing into the light and Goddard fell to the floor. There was a skurry for the door and the strange men who had sat in the corner slipped out into the night and went running down the street as fast as their legs could carry them.
CHAPTER VI.
IN WHICH I LEARN SOMETHING
Confusion reigned at the house in the Rue Etienne. The Sieur de la Notte, sick at heart and searching peace for Madame, had set his mind upon going with Admiral Ribault to Florida, in hope of escaping the persecution of those who hated him at the French court. For my part, since I had yet to perform my duty to the men who employed me and must find Admiral Coligny at Paris, it mattered little whether Mademoiselle were in France or Florida. I would probably not see her again in any event. Yet I could not forbear asking to speak with her before the ships sailed away.
When I reached the house she was with Madame and could have but a word with me. She was, I thought, a little haughty; but none the less, she graciously promised me an hour in the morning. So I stopped below for two hours or more with the Sieur de la Notte, telling him of my plans and arranging that I might have, through Ribault, two companions under arms, to go with me and my sailors to Paris. I also helped him in the disposition of some of his own affairs, so that it was near midnight when I left the house. I went straightway to the hostel where I had left my seamen.
An account of the conduct of Smith and Goddard at the hostel did not reach my ears until many days afterwards when leagues at sea, with their consciences purged and their minds cleared by the strife of winds and seas, they came to me and told me what had happened.
As it was, when I reached
