"Yet the James was able to get along without you for several days," I remarked.
"Ah! A shrewd thrust! I am bound to admit, my dear Robert, that I regarded my recently concluded expedition as a dubious experiment. 'Twas in the light of reflections identical with those you have just detailed that I spoke of it as a problem in human equations. I was reasonably convinced that I could depend upon my men, but I should not have been greatly surprized had they abandoned me.
"I am not—by necessity I am not—regarded with affection by my followers. And on the whole, I think, I have gotten along better by means of fear than I might have by means of affection. Fear is a natural element in a pirate's career. What place has he in his life for affections?
"But we are faring far afield, Robert, into realms of philosophy in no way affiliated with our problems of the immediate moment. Hark! Do I not hear something?"
He did beyond question—an uproar of curses and shouts upon the deck outside.
"Perhaps your crew have decided to spring their revolt after your return, instead of during your absence," I suggested.
He shook his head, smiling.
"No, no. It is only that Captain Flint has come aboard. Pray take your seats. I promise you an interesting episode."
The door to the deck banged open, and a harsh, domineering voice bellowed in the companionway.
"—— me, Martin, what the —— —— —— —— d'ye think ye are? By the —— —— —— ——, ye lousy, slack-bellied swab, ye made us——"