"Risk in steamin' to an anchorage an' sendin' a boat ashore for water?
There seems to be a lot of mad folk loose just now on Fernando Noronha, but I'm not one of 'em, an' that's as much as I can say for enny of you--damme if it ain't." Evidently the Portuguese was not accustomed to the direct form of conversation in vogue among British master mariners.

He bent his piercing gaze on Coke's angry if somewhat flustered countenance, and there was a perceptible stiffening of voice and manner when he said: "Who are you, then?
Who sent you here ?" "I'm Captain James Coke, of the British ship _Andromeda_, that's 'oo _I_ am, an' I was sent 'ere, or leastways to the River Plate, by David Verity an' Co., of Liverpool." It must not be forgotten that Coke shared with his employer a certain unclassical freedom in the pronunciation of the ship's name; the long "e" apparently puzzled the other man.
"_Andromeeda_ ?" he muttered.

"Spell it!" "My godfather, this is an asylum for sure," grunted Coke, in a spasm of furious mirth.

"A-n-d-r-o-m-e-d-a.

Now you've got it.