Remiel kept a carefully wooden expression as absolutely nothing happened at the end of the countdown.  Lesser--or at least, more self-conscious--men would have coughed, blushed, looked embarrassed, or shuffled their feet, but the good Captain simply kept his gaze fixated on the door.  When the sound of raucous laughter filtered in, accompanied by Myobi's affected screeching, he simply shook his head.<br/><br/>"More for me, then," he avowed, filling his goblet a second time.  He tossed that back in relatively short order, and filled it once again.<br/><br/>It slowly dawned on him that Kuno wasn't drinking. He raised his eyes slowly, like a corpse bobbing up through the water, and took in her flat, annoyed expression.  He blinked.<br/><br/>"Kuno, luv, don't tell me yeh were<em>happy</em>with that nob," he said, full of disbelief.  He put his cup down slowly, and regarded her quizzically.  "Okay, I'll grant yeh, it was a better life than being a simple cabin girl.  That I understand.  But you're part of our crew, me luv.  We<em>need</em>yeh.  And if it's gems and riches that yeh want, I've got something on the horizon that will blow yeh away."<br/><br/>He wiped his mouth with his sleeve,  swung his legs down, and brushed aside a couple of books on his desks, dislodging an empty rum bottle, a compass, and a tiny voodoo doll with pins stuck where its eyes should be.  He fished around in the recesses of the desk, and eventually produced a large piece of rolled-up parchment. He spread this out on the desk, on what little space there was, unrolling it with both hands and holding it down lest it have a tendency to curl, as rolled-up maps often did.   On the parchment was a detailed sketch of the Gulf of Mexico, with the usual "Here There Be Dragonnes" in the corners.  The map showed several islands--Cuba, Jamaica, Haiti, the Bahamas--and the great jutting peninsula that was Florida.  Although some of the American colonies could be seen--Jamestown, Charlestown, Savannah--most of the peninsula was filled in by swamps and jungle.   In the middle of the swampland, a big black "X" was inked.<br/><br/>"Ponce De Leon's fabled Fountain of Youth," he grinned, his eyes gleaming like Spanish bullion.  "I know where it is."