That 's more o ' my serpentines , I 'll be bound . One -- two -- three -- four they bear in ! Faith , Andrew equips himself like an Admiral ! Twenty-four serpentines in all ! '' ` As if it had been an echo , we heard John Collins 's voice come up all hollow : `` Twenty-four serpentines and two demi-cannon . That 's the full tally for Sir Andrew Barton . '' ' `` Courtesy costs naught , '' whispers Sebastian . `` Shall I drop my dagger on his head ? '' ' `` They go over to Rye o ' Thursday in the wool-wains , hid under the wool-packs . Dirk Brenzett meets them at Udimore , as before , '' says John . ' `` Lord ! What a worn , handsmooth trade it is ! '' says Sebastian . `` I lay we are the sole two babes in the village that have not our lawful share in the venture . '' ` There was a full score folk below , talking like all Robertsbridge Market . We counted them by voice . ` Master John Collins pipes : `` The guns for the French carrack must lie here next month . Will , when does your young fool '' -LRB- me , so please you ! -RRB- `` come back from Lunnon ? '' ' `` No odds , '' I heard Ticehurst Will answer .
`` Lay 'em just where you 've a mind , Mus ' XXXXX .
Admiral Andrew Barton Collins Lunnon Sebastian dagger serpentines wool-packs wool-wains