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"We may come to
great profit through the business. I pray you, master-shipman,
that when you go on board you pour a helmetful of sea-water over
any of my rogues whom you may see there."
Leaving the lusty knight and the Mayor of Lepe, Sir Nigel led the
Company straight down to the water's edge, where long lines of
flat lighters swiftly bore them to their vessel. Horse after
horse was slung by main force up from the barges, and after
kicking and plunging in empty air was dropped into the deep waist
of the yellow cog, where rows of stalls stood ready for their
safe keeping. Englishmen in those days were skilled and prompt
in such matters, for it was so not long before that Edward had
embarked as many as fifty thousand men in the port of Orwell,
with their horses and their baggage, all in the space of
four-and-twenty hours. So urgent was Sir Nigel on the shore,
and so prompt was Goodwin Hawtayne on the cog, that Sir Oliver
Buttesthorn had scarce swallowed his last scallop ere the peal of
the trumpet and clang of nakir announced that all was ready and
the anchor drawn.


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