To Purvis,
Couldn' be mine. I get my vits e'ery day. Perhaps one o' yer crew squander'd o'er it b'fore handin' it to ya. Ither way done, ya seem all right. Yer words ta miss Mode remind me o' 'Lizabeth. I can' keep red at a cap'n that r'minds me o' her. I'm all fer a truce if ya can spare 't.
Yers just as well,
Captain Drake I
To Drake I,
...Twas that right bastard Comte De Rishadt! So I swear upon th' articles what put th' Captain in me name, I'll hunt that rat bastard down an' send 'im down t' the drink!
Aye, a truce indeed. As a bit o' friendship, word has it there be a Dutch flyte comin' from Havana wit' silver from Peru. Cannae get t' it meself; gettin' the barnacle off me ship a'fore they ruin it. Mind ye, Charlie Vane may well have an eye on it tool...
Yours,
Captain Purvis MFD