Cutthroat Island Page #3

Any advance on 35.

I hope the lady is prepared

to be a good loser.

What gave you the idea

I was a lady?

Another bid, sir?

I see your lips moving. Yes?

Are you trying to kill me, madam?

Yes, that's why I'm aiming

where your brains are.

Now leave this place

and go far away.

Don't retreat now, sir.

Where are you going?

- Don't surrender this opportunity.

- Forty pounds to end the bidding.

Sold to the lady with the monkey.

Take him away.

Go on! Move!

Of course, I'm grateful, madam.

You picked a bargain.

I'm connected to all

the great families of Europe.

- I have a natural pitch for music...

- Quiet!

and a perfect taste in wine.

Enemy to leeward, Captain.

Starboard as well, Captain.

Time to leave.

You draw them away.

We'll meet at Dingley Crossroads.

- Take King Charles. Come on.

- Aye.

It's Morgan Adams!

She's at the auction!

Shoot to kill!

If I am in some way the cause

of all this, I apologize at once.

Here. Come here.

Hold on there. Hold on tight.

Try to keep up with me.

I am not fond of heights!

Then let go!

Lieutenant Trotter!

What's going on?

Something with Mr. Shaw,

I believe.

I'm in favor of exercise,

but you owe me an explanation.

Come here. Come on.

We have to climb down here.

Fast!

- Where'd they go?

- There!

Was that fast enough?

Come on!

Get the reins! Grab them!

Come on! Go!

Mr. Trotter!

That's my bloody carriage.

I'll have it back, if you please.

You, off.

Yes, sir. Don't worry, sir.

He won't get far.

Reload!

It's hard to imagine what part

of your life would require Latin!

Reload!

- We've taken a passenger!

- Here!

You're hitting a woman!

Captain Perkins, sir!

- Yes?

- It's her! Morgan Adams!

You're more active

than other women I've known.

Morgan! Watch your head!

Charge!

Excuse me!

Excuse me!

Stop them!

I must visit that shop again

when I have more time.

- Master gunner, fire at will.

- Run 'em up!

Fire!

A ship!

I find myself being fired upon

by an entire ship!

Oh, my God.

You certainly left your mark

on this town.

Hold on! Whoa!

Trotter, do you want to spend the rest

of your days on this poxy island?

- Who was that woman?

- Morgan Adams, sir.

You've 100 pounds on her head.

Black Harry's girl.

Well, well. She's made

a proper fool of me, hasn't she?

Two hundred pounds and a captaincy

for you if you find her for me.

Sir!

- Any difficulties?

- Nothing unusual.

Here. Step down

into the carriage.

- Will you take the reins?

- Aye.

We should make

Spittlefield by dark.

What is your name anyway, slave?

Shaw. William Shaw.

Dr. Shaw, actually.

Slave, I'm about

to show you something.

Reveal it to any other man, and you

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