( ...right. Right this circumstance be, honest criminal. He gone tried, didn't he? Good man, ain't he? Proper attempt made, he's put in the work, teased the girl from her wicked folly, or meant to turn her right on her path, and she won't be having it, not she.

Wants to topple'erself in the cap'n's cabin, does she? Fancies her some rope? Wench! Harlot. She-devil. Hang the Jib, like the captain will give her notice, got her some nerve, got her some cheek, got her —

Mr. Eames, progressively squinting, until the sharp slant of his eyes starts to pain him. And he hisses: )

Here. I'll show you where he's at. Take you to his rooms, yeah? Where he be? Where you be findin'im, then. Follow on.

( And he leads her, all right. All the way

into

the

brig. )