"What luck! What luck!" he muttered.
And then louder:
"'Twas an expensive shot for us, gadzooks! Well, Martin, we must fish the mast at our earliest opportunity, but we can make shift to corner Flint without it. The Walrus is foul and heavy in the water. The James can sail circles round her in this wind."
There was a worried look in Martin's weather-beaten face.
"Askin' your pardon, sir, I don't like this —— —— wind. We're in for a —— of a storm or I'm a —— —— —— lubber."
My great-uncle shrugged his shoulders.
"Storm or no storm, Martin, the Walrus carries nigh four hundred thousand pounds."
"Aye, sir; and by your favor, best sink her and be done wi' it and run for shelter."
"Sink her! Man, we'd lose the treasure."
"Better lose the Walrus' treasure than go down ourselves," insisted Martin doggedly. "Have it your own way, sir, but I'm a —— —— —— if it ain't fixin' to blow up one o' these here tarrible Caribbee storms as pluck the hairs outn your head."