— You know, for having such a bleak outlook on pirates you're well on your way to becoming one. Sprung a man from jail, commandeered a ship of the fleet, sailed with a buccaneer crew
out of Tortuga. And you're completely obsessed with treasure.
— That's not true. I am not obsessed with treasure.
— Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate.
That's exactly what I thought when we were first told the tale. Buried on an Island of the Dead what cannot be found except for those who know where it is. Find it, We did. There be the chest. Inside be the gold. And we took them all. We spent them and traded them and frittered them away on drink and food and pleasurable company. The more we gave them away, the more we came to realise the drink would not satisfy, food turned to ash in our mouths, and all the pleasurable company in the world could not slake our lust. We are cursed men, Miss Turner. Compelled by greed we were, but now we are consumed by it.
It strikes me that stampeding is at best a sporting proposition.
J'ai rêvé les amours divins,
L'ivresse des bras et des vins,
L'or, l'argent, les royaumes vains,
Moi, dix-huit ans, Elle, seize ans.
Parmi les sentiers amusants
Nous irions sur nos alezans.