"Yes, I'm grown old, and, though my little Fire-fly is still bright and
beautiful, and her ivories as biting, her guns, sir, as musical as ever,
yet I'm done with the Colonies; they ruin a man's morals and his health;
but I do a little, just by way of amusement, or practice, with Flanders
and France, and a run now and then to Lisbon."
"How long is it since you've been to St. Vallery?"
"Some time now; I was at Dieppe last month, and that is very near."
"Dalton, you must make St. Vallery before this moon is out, and execute
a little commission for me."
"Very good, sir; we have never disputed about terms. What is it? any
thing in the way of silks, or----"
"It is flesh, human flesh, Dalton."
"Ah!" exclaimed the Buccaneer, rising and recoiling from the knight.
"I've had enough of that, and I'll have no more. Sir Willmott Burrell,
you must seek out another man."
"Now, Dalton," said Burrell, in his most insinuating tone, "you have not
yet heard me, and I take it very unhandsome of an old friend like you to
start off in such a manner without knowing why or wherefore. The matter
is simply this--a girl, a silly girl, somehow or other got attached to
me while I was in France. I have received letter upon letter, talking of
her situation, and so forth, and threatening various things; amongst
others, to come over here, unless--the idiot!--I acknowledge her as my
wife. Now, you know, or perhaps you do not know, that I am betrothed to
the daughter of Sir Robert Cecil; and, if I must enter into the holy
state, why she is a maiden to be proud of. I have arranged it
thus--written to my fair Zillah to get to St. Vallery by a particular
day, the date of which I will give you, and told her that a vessel waits
to convey her to England. You, Dalton, must guide that vessel,
and----but you understand me; words between friends are needless."
"The cargo for exportation; Barbadoes perhaps----"
"Or----" And Burrell pointed with his finger downwards, though, when he
raised his eye to encounter that of the Buccaneer, it was quickly
withdrawn.
"God, Burrell!" exclaimed Dalton, in a tone of abhorrence, "you are a
greater villain than I took you for! Why can't you pay off the
girl--send her somewhere--gild the crime?"
"Gold is no object with her; she desires honour."