ried the black galliard. 'Le diable t'emporte,' says Aylward. 'A five,
a four and the main,' shouted the big man, with a voice like the flap of
a sail. Hark to them now, young sir, and say if I speak not sooth."

As he spoke, there sounded high above the shriek of the gale and the
straining of the timbers a gust of oaths with a roar of deep-chested
mirth from the gamblers in the forecastle.

"Can I be of avail?" asked Alleyne. "Say the word and the thing is done,
if two hands may do it."

"Nay, nay, your head I can see is still totty, and i' faith little head
would you have, had your bassinet not stood your friend. All that may be
done is already carried out, for we have stuffed the gape with sails and
corded it without and within. Yet when we bale our bowline and veer the
sheet our lives will hang upon the breach remaining blocked. See how
yonder headland looms upon us through the mist! We must tack within
three arrow flights, or we may find a rock through our timbers. Now, St.
Christopher be praised! here is Sir Nigel, with whom I may confer."

"I prythee that you will pardon me," said the knight, clutching his way
along the bulwark. "I would not show lack of courtesy toward a worthy
man, but I was deep in a matter of some weight, concerning which,
Alleyne, I should be glad of your rede. It touches the question of
dimidiation or impalement in the coat of mine uncle, Sir John Leighton
of Shropshire, who took unto wife the widow of Sir Henry Oglander
of Nunwell. The case has been much debated by pursuivants and
kings-of-arms. But how is it with you, master shipman?"

"Ill enough, my fair lord. The cog must go about anon, and I know not
how we may keep the water out of her."

"Go call Sir Oliver!" said Sir Nigel, and presently the portly knight
made his way all astraddle down the slippery deck.

"By my soul, master-shipman, this passes all patience!" he cried
wrathfully. "If this ship of yours must needs dance and skip like a
clown at a kermesse, then I pray you that you will put me into one
of these galeasses. I had but sat down to a flask of malvoisie and a
mortress of brawn, as is my use about this hour, when there comes a
cherking, and I find my wine over my legs and the flask in my lap, and
then as I stoop to clip it there comes another cursed cherk, and there
is a mortress of brawn stuck fast to the nape of my neck. At this moment
I have two pages coursing after it from side to side, like hounds behind
a lev