PIRATE.  Hundreds of ’em.

OLIVER.  Ingots of gold?

PIRATE.  Lashings of ’em.

JILL.  And he’s going to polish up the four-pounder until I can see my face in it.

OLIVER.  I was just going to ask you about your guns.  You’ve got ’em fore and aft of course?

PIRATE.  Yes, sir.  A four-pounder fore and a half-pounder haft.

OLIVER (a little embarrassed).  And do you ever have brothers-in-law in your ship?

PIRATE.  Well, I never have had yet, but I have always been looking about for one.

JILL.  Oh, Oliver, isn’t Eric a nice man?

OLIVER (casually).  I suppose the captain’s brother-in-law is generally the first man to board the Spaniard with his cutlass between his teeth?

PIRATE.  You might almost say always.  Many a ship on the Spanish Main I’ve had to leave unboarded through want of a brother-in-law.  They’re touchy about it somehow.  Unless the captain’s brother-in-law comes first they get complaining.

OLIVER (bashfully).  And there’s just one other thing.  If the brigantine happened to put in at an island for water, and the captain’s brother-in-law happened—­just happened—­to be a silly ass and go and marry a dusky maiden, whom he met on the beach—–­

PIRATE.  Bless you, it’s always happening to a captain’s brother-in-law.

OLIVER (in a magnificent manner).  Then, Captain Crookshank, you may take my sister!

JILL.  Thank you, Oliver.

(It is not every day that one-eared ERIC, that famous chieftain, marries into the family of the TERROR OF THE DYAKS.  Naturally the occasion is celebrated by the whole pirate crew with a rousing chorus, followed by a dance in which the dusky maidens of the Island join.  At the end of it, JILL finds herself alone with TUA-HEETA, the Dusky Princess.)

JILL (fashionably).  I’m so pleased to meet my brother’s future wife.  It’s so nice of you to come to see me.  You will have some tea, won’t you? (She puts out her hand and presses an imaginary bell) I wanted to see you, because I can tell you so many little things about my brother, which I think you ought to know.  You see, Eric—­my husband—­

TUA-HEETA.  Ereec?

JILL.  Yes.  I wish you could see him.  He’s so nice-looking.  But I’m afraid he won’t be home to tea.  That’s the worst of marrying a sailor.  They are away so much.  Well, I was telling you about Oliver.  I think it would be better if you knew at once that—­he doesn’t like rice-pudding.

TUA-HEETA.  Rice-poodeeng?

JILL.  Yes, he hates it.  It is very important that you should remember that.  Then there’s another thing—­(An untidy looking servant comes in.  Can it be—­can it possibly be AUNT JANE?  Horrors!) He dislikes—­Oh, there you are, Jane.  You’ve been a very long time answering the bell.

AUNT JANE.  I’m so sorry ma’am, I was just dressing.

JILL.  Excuses, Jane, always excuses.  Leave me.  Take a week’s notice.  (To TUA-HEETA) YOU must excuse my maid.  She’s very stupid.  Tea at once, Jane. (AUNT JANE sniffs and goes off) What was I saying?  Oh yes, about Oliver.  He doesn’t care for cod-liver oil in the way that some men do.  You would be wise not to force it on him just at first. . . .  Have you any idea where you are going to live?