"BRAS-DE-FER"
tation so low and I mine so high, that I cannot bring myself to fight him.”
Here Jacquard could no longer contain himself.
“Can you not see farther than the end of your bowsprit, Billee Winch?” he cried; and while the captain wondered, “Can you not see, stupid fish?—’tis Bras-de-Fer himself!”
Blackbeard fell back a step or two in his amazement, while a murmur swept over the crew, who, loath to leave the scene, had remained interested listeners to the colloquy.
“What! René the Iron Arm aboard the Sally?” said the captain, approaching the Frenchman again. “Soho! Though, by St. Paul’s—ye’re not unlike— An’ with a wig an’ doublet— ’Pon my soul, Jacky Jacquard, but I believe ’tis the truth. Say, is it so, master?”
“I am René Mornay,” said the Frenchman.
“Soho!” he roared in delight. “Then Sally shall give ye meat and drink and make a bed to ye. An’ when ye will she’ll set ye ashore in France. Or, if ye care for the clashin’ of arms,
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