it on his hook._) The crossbones as hung on the masthead o'
the Spittin' Devil. Ol' Flint's wery flag. Him as they hanged on a
gibbet on Wappin' wharf. It was a mirky night like this, with
'prentices gawpin' in the lanterns and Jack Ketch unsnarlin' his
cursed ropes. I spits blood ter think o' it.

[Illustration: "Ol' Flint's wery flag"]

DUKE: I 'll die easy when I 've revenged his death and the ol' clock
is tickin' peaceful and Flint sleepin' 'appy in his rotten coffin.

CAPTAIN: A drink all 'round. We 'll drink the health o' this here
flag. You 'll drink with us, Darlin'.

DARLIN': Yer spoils me, Captain.

(_Everyone drinks._)

CAPTAIN: And now we 'll drink confusion to the swab that 's settin' on
the English throne.

(_All drink except Red Joe. He makes the pretense, but pours his grog
out covertly. Our play is nothing if not subtle._)

DUKE: Here 's to ol' Flint!

ALL: Here 's to ol' Flint!

(_It is bed-time. They all stretch and yawn. The Captain climbs the
ladder to the sleeping loft. Patch follows with the candle, warming
the Captain's seat for speed. The Duke comes next, carrying his one
boot which he has removed before the fire. Darlin' kisses her hand to
the Duke and retires to the kitchen. We suspect that she curls up
inside the sink, with a stewpan for a pillow. Red Joe lingers for a
moment and stands gazing at the ocean._)

JOE: My memory fumbles in the past. I, too, hear familiar voices--lost
for many years. A dark curtain lifts and in the past I see myself a
child. There are strange tunes in the wind tonight. Methinks they sing
the name of Margaret.

(_He climbs the ladder. And now, with an occasional dropping boot, the
pirates prepare for bed. Presently we hear the Duke up above,
singing--rigorously at first, until drowsiness dulls the tune._)

It is said in port by the sailor sort,
As they swig all night at their rum,
That a jolly grave is the ocean wave,
But a churchyard bell 's too glum.
I agrees ter this and ter give 'em bliss--
From Pew I learned the trick--
I push 'em wide o' the wessel's side
And poke 'em down with a stick.

[Illustration: Darlin' warms her old red stockings]

(_Darlin' enters. With a prodigious yawn she sits at the fire. She
kicks off her slippers and warms her old red stockings. She comforts
herself with grog and spits across the hearth. She sleeps and gently
snores. The Duke continues with his song._)

Ol' Fl