The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson – Swanston Edition. Volume 15

Mrs. Drake (re-entering with bottle and glasses). There!

Pew. Easy does it, ma’am.

Kit. Mrs. Drake, you had better trot.

Mrs. Drake. Yes, I’ll trot; and I’ll trot with a sick heart, Kit French, to leave you drinking your wits away with that low blind man. For a low man you are – a low blind man – and your clothes they would disgrace a scarecrow. I’ll go to my bed, Kit; and O, dear boy, go soon to yours – the old room, you know; it’s ready for you – and go soon and sleep it off; for you know, dear, they, one and all, regret it in the morning; thirty years I’ve kept this house, and one and all they did regret it, dear.

Pew. Come now, you walk!

Mrs. Drake. O, it’s not for your bidding. You a seaman? The ship for you to sail in is the hangman’s cart. – Good-night, Kit, dear, and better company. (Exit.)

SCENE VI

Pew, Kit

They sit at the other table, L

Pew. Commander, here’s her ’ealth!

Kit. Ay, that’s the line: her health! But that old woman there is a good old woman, Pew.

Pew. So she is, Commander. But there’s no woman understands a seaman; now you and me, being both bred to it, we splice by natur’. As for A. G., if argyment can win her, why, she’s yours. If I’d a-had your ’ed for argyment, damme, I’d a-been a Admiral, I would! And if argyment won’t win her, well, see here, you put your trust in David Pew.

Kit. David Pew, I don’t know who are you, David Pew; I never heard of you; I don’t seem able to clearly see you. Mrs. Drake, she’s a smart old woman, Pew, and she says you’ve the devil in your face.

Pew. Ah, and why, says you? Because I up and put her in her place, when she forgot herself to you, Commander.

Kit. Well, Pew, that’s so; you stood by me like a man. Shake hands, Pew; and we’ll make a night of it, or we’ll know why, old boy!

Pew. That’s my way. That’s Pew’s way, that is. That’s Pew’s way all over. Commander, excuse the liberty; but when I was your age, making allowance for a lowlier station and less ’ed for argyment, I was as like you as two peas. I know it by the v’ice. (Sings) —

“We hadn’t been three days at sea before we saw a sail,
So we clapped on every stitch would stand, although it blew a gale,
And we walked along full fourteen knots, for the barkie she did know,
As well as ever a soul on board, ’twas time for us to go.”

Chorus, Cap’n!

Pew and Kit (in chorus) —

“Time for us to go,
Time for us to go,
As well as ever a soul on board
’Twas time for us to go.”

Pew (sings) —

“We carried away the royal yard, and the stunsail boom was gone;
Says the skipper, ’They may go or stand, I’m damned if I don’t crack on;
So the weather braces we’ll round in, and the trysail set also,
And we’ll keep the brig three p’ints away, for it’s time for us to go.”

Give it mouth, Commander!

Pew and Kit (in chorus) —

“Time for us to go,
Time for us to go,
And we’ll keep the brig three p’ints away,
For it’s time for us to go.”

Pew. I ain’t sung like that since I sang to Admiral ’Awke, the night before I lost my eyes, I ain’t. “Sink me!” says he, says Admiral ’Awke, my old commander (touching his hat), “sink me!” he says, “if that ain’t ’art-of-oak,” he says: “’art-of-oak,” says he, “and a pipe like a bloody blackbird!” Commander, here’s my respecks, and the devil fly away with Admiral Guinea!

Kit. I say, Pew, how’s this? How do you know about Admiral Guinea? I say, Pew, I begin to think you know too much.

Pew. I ax your pardon; but as a man with a ’ed for argyment – and that’s your best p’int o’ sailing, Commander; intelleck is your best p’int – as a man with a ’ed for argyment, how do I make it out?

Kit. Aha, you’re a sly dog, you’re a deep dog, Pew; but you can’t get the weather of Kit French. How do I make it out? I’ll tell you. I make it out like this: Your name’s Pew, ain’t it? Very well. And you know Admiral Guinea, and that’s his name, eh? Very well. Then you’re Pew; and the Admiral’s the Admiral; and you know the Admiral; and by George, that’s all. Hey? Drink about, boys, drink about!

Pew. Lord love you, if I’d a-had a ’ed like yours! Why, the Admiral was my first cap’n. I was that man’s bo’sun, I was, aboard the Arethusa; and we was like two brothers. Did you never hear of Guinea-land and the black ivory business? (Sings) —

“A quick run to the south we had, and when we made the Bight,
We kept the offing all day long and crossed the Bar at night.
Six hundred niggers in the hold and seventy we did stow,
And when we clapped the hatches on, ’twas time for us to go.”

Lay forward, lads!

Kit and Pew (in chorus) —

“Time for us to go,” etc.

Kit. I say, Pew, I like you; you’re a damned ugly dog; but I like you. But look ye here, Pew: fair does it, you know, or we part company this minute. If you and the Ad – the Admirable were like brothers on the Guinea coast, why aren’t you like brothers here?

Pew. Ah, I see you coming. What a ’ed! what a ’ed! Since Pew is a friend of the family, says you, why didn’t he sail in and bear a hand, says you, when you was knocking the Admiral’s ship about his ears in argyment?

Kit. Well, Pew, now you put a name to it, why not?

Pew. Ah, why not? There I recko’nise you. Well, see here: argyment’s my weakness, in a manner of speaking; I wouldn’t a-borne down and spiled sport not for gold untold, no, not for rum, I wouldn’t! And besides, Commander, I put it to you as between man and man, would it have been seaman-like to let on and show myself to a old shipmate, when he was yard-arm to yard-arm with a craft not half his metal, and getting blown out of water every broadside? Would it have been ’ansome? I put it to you, as between man and man.

Kit. Pew, I may have gifts; but I never thought of that. Why, no: not seaman-like. Pew, you’ve a heart, that’s what I like you for.

Pew. Ah, that I have: you’ll see. I wanted – now you follow me – I wanted to keep square with Admiral Guinea. Why? says you. Well, put it that I know a fine young fellow when I sees him; and put it that I wish him well; and put it, for the sake of argyment, that the father of that lovely female’s in my power. Aha? Pew’s power! Why, in my ’ands he’s like this pocket ’andke’cher. Now, brave boy, do you see?

Kit. No, Pew, my head’s gone; I don’t see.

Pew. Why, cheer up, Commander! You want to marry this lovely female?