“Hee-hee! Now could I iver do other?—a miserable ould worms to whom the sweet effects o’ quantums be denied. When was I iver wholesomely maz’d? Or when did I lay my grey hairs on the floor, saying, ’Tis enough, an’ ’tis good’? Answer me that, Cap’n Bill.” “But you hopes for the best, Gabriel.” “Aye, I hopes—I hopes.” The old man sigh’d as he brought the _Godsend_ a point nearer the wind; and, as we turn’d away with the Captain, was still muttering, his sharp grey eyes fix’d on the vessel’s prow. “He’s my best,” said Captain Billy Pottery. With this crew we pass’d four days; and I write this much of them because they afterward, when sober, did me a notable good turn, as you shall read toward the end of this history. But lest you should judge them hardly, let me say here that when they recovered of their stupor—as happen’d to the worst after thirty-six hours—there was no brisker, handier set of fellows on the seas. And this Captain Billy well understood: “but” (said he) “I be a collector an’ a man o’ conscience both, which is uncommon. Doubtless there be good sots that are not good seamen, but from such I turn my face, drink they never so prettily.” ’Twas necessary I should impart some notion of my errand to Captain Billy, tho’ I confin’d myself to hints, telling him only ’twas urgent I should be put ashore somewhere on the Cornish coast, for that I carried intelligence which would not keep till we reached Plymouth, a town that, besides, was held by the rebels. And he agreed readily to land me in Bude Bay: “and also thy comrade, if (as I guess) she be so minded,” he added, glancing up at Delia from the paper whereon I had written my request. She had been silent of late, beyond her wont, avoiding (I thought) to meet my eye: but answer’d simply, “I go with Jack.” Captain Billy, whose eyes rested on her as she spoke, beckon’d me, very mysterious, outside the cabin, and winking slily, whisper’d loud enough to stun one—— “Ply her, Jack”—he had call’d me “Jack” from the first—“ply her briskly! Womankind is but yielding flesh: ‘am an amorous man mysel’, an’ speak but that I have prov’d.” On this—for the whole ship could hear it—there certainly came the sound of a stifled laugh from the other side of the cabin door: but it did not mend my comrade’s shy humor, that lasted throughout the voyage.