Emmaline's mind burned with gold lust as she shoveled handfuls of coins into her belt pouch. Her dress had no pockets so she began shoving coins into her bodice until the integrity of the fabric itself was threatened. Still far from being satisfied she grabbed one of the canvas rain covers and improvised a sack, pilling coins in the center so she could gather up the corners like a drifters bindle. 

"What 'ave we 'ere then?" a gruff voice demanded. Emmaline spun about so quickly that her blonde hair flicked out with the speed of the motion. An unshaven guardsman carrying a heavy looking baton in one hand was standing in the doorway. His face was contorted into a leer as he slapped the wooden weapon into his palm. A heavy leather belt encircled his waist and there was the wooden and brass butt of a pistol tucked away there. The rapid rotation shook a coin form her bodice and it bounced and clinked over the hull before coming to a stop at the mans feet.

"My, you are the prettiest thief we have caught in a while, be almost a shame when we finally have to cut your throat and drop you in the river," the guard leered taking a step towards her. Emmaline took a step back, bodice jingling with coins as her eyes darted about for a means of escape. There was no obvious means of doing so, the only port hole being far too small to accommodate her.

"Look I'm sure we can come to some arrangement," she temporized attempting to back away. There was no where to go in the confined cabin.

"Oh, I'm sure we can," the grinning thug agreed, stepping forward and slapping his baton into his hand for emphassis.

"Reckon I'm going to enjoy this."