THE LOVE OF MONSIEUR
Bras-de-Fer comes not back with the ship. The master-at-arms ye’ve killed, if I mistake not. He’s captain in his Majesty’s Guards. Perhaps ye can explain that.”
Anxious glances passed among the rascals as they looked first at monsieur and then at Jacquard. But Yan Gratz was not to be deceived or robbed of his vengeance.
“Donner vetter!” he cried. “Ay, yai. Vhat tifference it makes? De varrant is de varrant of Pilly Vinch; no odder—I am as goot a man as him. Tunder of der Teufel! I vill make a call mineself upon de covernor of Chamaica.”
In answer to this sally, Jacquard burst into a loud laugh. “Ha, ha! Ye’re swelled out of all proper dimensions, Yan Gratz. Ye forget that Monsieur the Governor and Monsieur Bras-de-Fer are friends. Listen, then, to what I propose. Bras-de-Fer will write us a letter saying that you or I may receive the ships for our owners. In return we will give monsieur and madame the pinnace and let them go whither they will.”
“No, py Cott!” roared Gratz, furious at be-
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