Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. “You see you do not know how much of truth there is in his story. Sebastian took the prostitute and others into his bed, having rediscovered the joy of orgy, she would often not see him for several days at a time. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. "Damnation!" cried Kneebone. Sheppard replied by a solemn assertion, "that he had received no assistance except from Heaven. I know nothing of that young lady. Jack tried it, and found it locked. She could read that Martin had a crush on her and was perhaps even going to try and challenge John as he was the bold sort. “You haven’t seen him in three hundred years?” He asked.
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