“Don’t come nearer!” she said. ’ ‘Then you will die at the hands of the canaille. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. ‘It could not be helped, whichever way I made my presence known. " Sheppard started to his feet. "Flying fish. " "On no account," rejoined Wood peremptorily. Cathy's eyes widened, her cheeks expanding to a smile. " "And why not, old saltwater?" inquired Ben, turning a quid in his mouth. Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful, if not very dainty repast. Lucy spoke once they had turned the corner.
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