Sure enough, I saw Joanna descend the ladder from the poop and come mincing across the deck towards us.
"Hola, Belvedere, mon Capitan!" said she, glancing about her quick-eyed. "You keep your ship very foul, yes. Dirt to dirt!--ah? But I am aboard and this shall be amended--look to it. And your mizzen yard is sprung; down with it and sway up another--"
"Aye, aye, Jo," said Belvedere, nodding. "It shall be done--"
"Mañana!" quoth she, frowning. "This doth not suit when I am aboard, no! The new yard must be rigged now, at once, for we sail with the flood--voilà!"
"Sail, Jo?" said Belvedere, staring. "Can't be, Jo!"
"And wherefore?"
"Why--we be short o' water, for one thing."
"Ah--bah, we shall take all we want from other ships!"
"And the lads be set, heart and soul, on a few days ashore."
"But then--I am set, my heart, my soul, on heaving anchor so soon as the tide serves. We will sail with the flood. Now see the new yard set up and have this slave Martin o' mine to my cabin." So saying, she turned on her heel and minced away, while Belvedere stood looking after her and biting at his thumb, Job scowled and Diccon smiled.
"So--ho!" quoth he. "Captain Jo says we sail, and sail it is, hey?"
"Blind you!" cried Belvedere, turning on him in a fury. "Go forward and turn out two o' the lads to draw this carcass aft!" Here bestowing a final kick on me, he swaggered away.
"Sail wi' the flood, is it?" growled Job. "And us wi' scarce any water and half on us rotten wi' scurvy or calenture, an' no luck this cruise, neither! 'Sail wi' the flood,' says she--'be damned,' says I. By hookey, but I marvel she lives; I wonder no one don't snuff her out for good an' all--aye, burn me but I do!"
"Because you're a fool, Job, and don't know her like we do. She's 'La Culebra,' and why? Because she's quick as any snake and as deadly. Besides, she's our luck and luck she'll bring us; she always do. Whatever ship she's aboard of has all the luck, wind, weather, and--what's better, rich prizes, Job. I know it and the lads forrad know it, and Belvedere he knows it and is mighty feared of her and small blame either--aye, and mayhap you'll be afeard of her when you know her better. 'She's only a woman,' says you. 'True,' says I. But in all this here world there ain't her match, woman or man, and you can lay to that, my lad."