Flint's blue jowl took on a sickly greenish pallor and the tiny veins over his cheekbones commenced to beat.
"—— me for a —— —— —— if I'll stand for such from any sneaking, longjawed, Irish Papist ——"
"That will do," said my great-uncle without raising his voice.
Flint subsided.
"Colonel O'Donnell and his daughter are my guests," my great-uncle continued. "They have played essential parts in our capture of the treasure. I must insist, Flint, that you accord them a courtesy similar to that which I should extend to friends of yours in a like situation."
"They're no friends o' mine," growled Flint. "This is more o' your cursed political blethering. Well, I'm sick o' it, Murray, and I care not who knows it. First, ye carry us north to America, just to crimp two men, with not two hundred pounds in booty to show for the voyage. Next, ye shut me up here for the better part of six months for my men to rot with fever and drink and my ship to foul her bottom——"
"On both these counts you have your own negligence to blame," put in my great-uncle.
"—and last," Flint fumed on without heeding him, "ye bring to the Rendeyvoo a man and a woman who are not of our company, and who, for all ye know, may go hence, and loose a King's ship on us some day when we are careened and helpless."
"Not you," returned Murray sarcastically. "You'll not careen, Flint. That would mean work for your crew. But you concern yourself needlessly. Colonel O'Donnell has reasons for keeping his share in our enterprise under cover. He is more safely to be trusted in the circumstances than many another."
"I care not who he is or what you may have on him," cried Flint, working himself into a fury. "Ye ha' introduced four strangers into our midst without the let or permission of others of our company."