“But there’s more, isn’t there?” asked Nathaniel, after a pause. He had lit an oil lamp and the soft glow gave a mahogany cast to Artemis’s face, glistening in the tepid night air. The Milky Way arched overhead, a dusty white rainbow.

“Sure dere more, you care to hear it. I been talkin’ one long time.” He looked sidelong at Will, who passed the bottle yet again.

“You Jehovah Witnesses can sure hold your liquor, I’ll say that.”

“All de seawater in my belly, cuts de liquor some. Bye and bye, de sight return to my one eye but not de other, and it don’t come back at all to poor Jimmy. Oh, he can see some light, some shapes, but if you was to put your hand in front his face and spread your fingers and ask him how many, he couldn’t tell you. Your papa go to trial, a federal trial, held over to de Monroe County courthouse, dot big redbrick building over to Whitehead Street. We all dere, de whole crew of Main Chance, and some de crew from Annisquam, and Cop’in Robinson and Cop’in Sanford—he de one bring de charges when he sailed back to Key West. Dey testify against your papa, de crewmen from Annisquam; de rescued men, dey testify for him. Your papa got a lawyer who tell de judge dot Cop’in Cy had good reason to use force to board dot vessel, as her breakin’ up proved, dot if Cop’in Robinson had lissened to him de first night, de whole ship and everything in her now be saved. Dis lawyer talk go on for t’ree, maybe four days, and you should of seen your papa, in his Sunday best, and not lookin’ like no pirate and not like no guilty man neither, but just as sure of hisself as a preacher holdin’ a royal flush. And his eye—he still got dot minié ball eye, and when Sanford and Robinson on de stand, dey can’t hold de look of dot one eye with dere two.