My great-uncle shrugged his shoulders.
"You see? You have been talking loosely, I fear, my friend. But you must suffer me to repeat that if you left your ship all night with a watch of two men on deck you deserved to lose your hostages and the lives of the watch. At any rate, you'll not have my sympathy."
Flint's fingers twitched on his hanger-hilt.
"I tell ye, Murray, there's a foul smell about this whole business. You were all for giving me hostages—'twas no idea of mine. And then they no sooner come aboard my ship than they're away again. I like it not. Here's trickery or ye may gut me for a preacher."
"Had I found your hostages on the James before sailing or within a day after, you should have had them back again," said Murray firmly. "But there is no point to this argument; for hostages or no hostages, you see me returned with the treasure, as I promised."
"—— me, ye've been long enough gone," complained Flint. "It hath been a month more than ye promised."
"For that I had excellent reasons," answered my great-uncle. "I was chased twice on my way hither."
Flint was impressed by this—also, his eyes strayed, as if lured by a magnet of irresistible power, back to the heap of treasure on the deck below.
"Ye must ha' had rare success," he admitted unwillingly. "We ha' the gold o' the Indies here!"
He looked up and happened to meet the awe-struck gaze of Moira O'Donnell. A sneer curled his lips.