"Godby," says Adam suddenly, leaning forward, "did ye get no glimpse o' this man's face?"
"Nary a one, master, and for why?--the place was dark and he wore a great flapped hat."
"Why then," says Adam, pinching his chin, "did ye chance to see his hands?"
"No whit, master, and for why?--he wore a loose cloak about him."
"And what more did ye hear?"
"No more, master, and for why?--because, as luck would have it a straw tickled my nose and I sneezed loud as a demi-culverin, and there's poor Godby up and running for his life and these murderous rogues after poor Godby. Howbeit they durst not shoot lest they should alarm the house, and I'm very light on my feet and being small and used to dodging catchpolls and the like vermin, I got safe away. Having done which and bethinking me of my pal Martin, I made for the Peck-o'-Malt. Now as luck would have it, Gregory overtakes me (as I had purposed he should, I being minded to get even wi' him for good and all). Down he gets from the saddle and me by the collar, and claps a great snaphaunce under my nose. 'So it was you, ye rogue, was it?' says he. 'That same,' says I, 'but who's that peeping over the hedge there?' The fool turns to see, I twist the pistol out of his grip, and have him very neatly trussed and gagged with his belt and my girdle, and so, heaving him i' the ditch, into the saddle and here I am."
"Godby," says Penfeather, viewing him keen-eyed, "I need men--will ye sail with us for the Main?"
"Does Martin sail?"
"He does! Will ye along?"
"Heartily, captain, heartily!"
"Are ye armed, Godby?"
"I've Gregory's dag here," says Godby, pulling out a long-barrelled pistol.
"Joel shall find ye another to go with it. And ye know the sea?"
"Aye, Captain, I sailed with Captain Myddleton as gunner and will lay you a gun with any man from a murdering-piece or minion to a great culverin."
"Good!" says Penfeather and summoned Joel Bym, who, beholding the peddler, stared, bellowed jovial greeting, and at nod from Penfeather, departed with him, arm in arm.
"Well, Martin," says Adam when the door had closed, "and what d'ye make o' this tale of sailor-men?"
"That they're the same rogues I fell out with."
"Beyond doubt, Martin. And what more?"
"That like enough they're on their road hither."
"Beyond any peradventure, shipmate."
"Well?"
"Well, let 'em come, Martin, let 'em come. There's somewhat here I don't understand and I mislike mystery. So let them come, here in this little room, in light or dark, I ask no better."