A c*cky grin flashed through the sailors grizzled beard, turning his aspect from ferocious to friendly in an instant. He rested a hand against the lamp post. Ragged blue lines across his knuckles spelled out H-O-L-D. A glance at his other hand, planted on his sinewy hip, showed the letters F-A-S-T.
Morgan forced his gaze back up to the sailors face. "I'm looking for Sir Evelyn Winthrop."
"You're in luck, mate. You've found the very man." - Sebastian Nothwell, Take Me Like A Sailor
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