Stirk grinned at him. 'Seaflower, she's two hunnerd tons, makes 'er a big 'un up agin them Revenooers — near three times their size,' he said appreciatively. 'I say she's snug, is all.' At sea a full half of her company would be watch on deck, and at anchor in the balmy weather of the Caribbean many would probably sleep there.
Kydd swarmed up the narrow ladderway to the upper deck, where a sizeable gathering was celebrating Seaflower's prospects. Doggo was leaning on a swivel gun forward of the mast, waving his tankard, with an audience and in full flow. A slightly built man with a leathery face and bright eyes listened. Kydd guessed that this would be Snead, the carpenter's mate, and on the other side was the lean figure of Stiles without his silver call badge of office.
A friendly hail, and Renzi stepped on deck. 'Tip us some words, mate,' Petit called. Surprised muttering met this suggestion: few present knew Renzi and his odd predilections.
Renzi stood still and thoughtful, then declaimed into the velvet night:
'Majestically slow before the breeze
The tall ship marches on the a^ure seas;
In silent pomp she cleaves the watery plain
The pride and wonder of the billowy main.'
A respectful silence and scattering of polite appreciation followed, at which Renzi coughed apologetically. 'If it were in me to sing a hearty chorus, I would rather - but we have the prince of ballads himself aboard. Ned, dear fellow, entertain us!'
Doud flashed his broad white smile, and rose, handing his tankard to Farthing. He struck a noble pose and in a perfect tenor sang,
'Come, come, m' jolly lads!
The winds abaft
Brisk gales our sails shall crowd;
The ship's unmoor'd, all hands aboard
The barky's well mann'd and stor'd!'
The Drury Lane ballad, though confected by a landman, was a great favourite, and all joined in the chorus
