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the best fancy to die in the Grey Friar's, as ye may readily conceive,
and the least fancy to die in John Shipman's tarry jacket; and that for
two excellent good reasons: first, that the death might take a man
suddenly; and second, for the horror of that great, salt smother and
welter under my foot here"--and Lawless stamped with his foot.
"Howbeit," he went on, "an I die not a sailor's death, and that this
night, I shall owe a tall candle to our Lady."
"Is it so?" asked Dick.
"It is right so," replied the outlaw. "Do ye not feel how heavy and dull
she moves upon the waves? Do ye not hear the water washing in her hold?
She will scarce mind the rudder even now. Bide till she has settled a
bit lower; and she will either go down below your boots like a stone
image, or drive ashore here, under our lee, and come all to pieces like a
twist of string."
"Ye speak with a good courage," returned Dick. "Ye are not then
appalled?"
"
Why, master," answered Lawless, "if ever a man had an ill crew to come
to port with, it is I--a renegade friar, a thief, and all the rest on't.
Well, ye may wonder, but I keep a good hope in my wallet; and if that I
be to drown, I will drown with a bright eye, Master Shelton, and a steady
hand."
Dick returned no answer; but he was surprised to find the old vagabond of
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