PEW (_seated on chest_). You follow this. I’m sick of drinking bilge, when I might be rolling in my coach, and I’m dog-sick of Jack Gaunt. Who’s he to be wallowing in gold, when a better man is groping crusts in the gutter and spunging for rum? Now, here in this blasted chest is the gold to make men of us for life: gold, ay, gobs of it; and writin’s too—things that if I had the proof of ’em I’d hold Jack Gaunt to the grindstone till his face was flat. I’d have done it single-handed; but I’m blind, worse luck: I’m all in the damned dark here, poking with a stick—Lord, burn up with lime the eyes that saw it! That’s why I raked up you. Come, out with your iron, and prise the lid off. You shall touch your snack, and have the wench for nothing; ay, and fling her in the street, when done. KIT. So you brought me here to steal did you? PEW. Ay did I; and you shall. I’m a biter: I bring blood. KIT. Now, Pew, you came here on my promise, or I’d kill you like a rat. As it is, out of that door! One, two, three (_drawing his cutlass_), and off! PEW (_leaping at his throat_, _and with a great voice_). Help! murder! thieves! SCENE III _To these_, ARETHUSA, GAUNT, _with lights_. _Stage light_. PEW _has_ KIT _down_, _and is throttling him_ PEW. I’ve got him, Cap’n. What, kill my old commander, and rob him of his blessed child? Not with old Pew! GAUNT. Get up, David: can’t you see you’re killing him? Unhand, I say. ARETHUSA. In heaven’s name, who is it? PEW. It’s a damned villain, my pretty; and his name, to the best of my belief, is French. ARETHUSA. Kit? Kit French? Never! KIT (_rising_). He’s done for me. (_Falls on chest_.) [PEW. Don’t you take on about him, ducky; he ain’t worth it. Cap’n Gaunt, I took him and I give him up. You was ’ard on me this morning, Cap’n: this is my way—Pew’s way, this is—of paying of you out. ARETHUSA. Father, this is the blind man that came while you were abroad. Sure you’ll not listen to _him_. And you, Kit, you, what is this? KIT. Captain Gaunt, that blind devil has half-throttled me. He brought me here—I can’t speak—he has almost killed me—and I’d been drinking too. GAUNT. And you, David Pew, what do you say?]