"A little of both, comrade!" says I. "Though verily I am a surly animal by nature."
"Indeed yes, Martin," she sighs, "yet a very comfortable animal, and though strong and fierce and woefully trying at times, a very gentle animal to such as know you."
"And do you know me so well?"
"Better than you think, O a great deal better! Because I am a woman. And now are we friends again?"
"Yes!" says I heartily, "Yes!" And away she goes to her cooking and I mighty glad I had not destroyed her hairpin, the which (my knife being sharp) I began to ornament with all sorts of elaborations. Presently back she comes, spoon in one hand, stool in the other, and sits to watch me at work.
"What do you make now, Martin?"
"A pin for your hair."
"Why, 'tis beautiful!"
"'Tis scarce begun yet!"
Here she must needs lavish all manner of praises on my skill until I came nigh cutting myself.
"How many will you make me, Martin?"
"As many as you will."
"Three should suffice."
"Why, you have a prodigious lot of hair."
"Do you think so, Martin?" says she, glancing down at the two great braids that fell over her bosom well-nigh to her waist. "'Twas well enough in England, but here 'tis greatly in my way and hampers me in my work. I had thought of cutting it off."
"Then don't!"
"Why not, Martin?"
"Well," says I, glancing at the nearest braid that showed coppery lights where the setting sun caught it. "Well, because--" and finding nought else to say I fell to my carving again and away she goes to her cooking.
"Martin," says she at last, "what do you know of Master Penfeather? Where did you fall in with him, and why is his life so threatened?"
"All by reason of Black Bartlemy's treasure!"
"Treasure!" says she; and back she comes and onto her stool, all in a moment. "Tell me of it, Martin!"
"'Tis a great treasure of gold and jewels in such."
"And who is Black Bartlemy?"
"A foul rogue of a pirate that was killed by a poor Spanish lady, and lieth buried with her under the great pimento tree on the beach yonder."
"O Martin!" says she, getting up that she might behold the tree, "O Martin, I knew, I knew 'twas an evil place! And the poor lady died too?"
"He killed her after she had stabbed him!"
"How do you know of this?"
"Adam Penfeather told me, he saw it done!" Hereupon she sits down and is silent awhile.
"And where is this great treasure?"