I turned to Moira.
"In a manner of speaking, that treasure is yours. 'Twas in your father's name, to be held in trust for others. Are you willing——"
"My faith, any cause will be the better without it," she interrupted. "What has it done but bring bloodshed and suffering upon all who trafficked in it? If it will just win us our lives, Bob, 'twill be the one good deed to its credit."
"Time's runnin' short," shouted Flint. "If ye won't surrender we'll start the fagots."
"Suit yourself," I replied with as much confidence as I could muster. "There are three of us here, and 'tis we know where the treasure lies on the Dead Man's Chest. If you won't even promise our lives we'll make the bitterest fight we can and carry the secret with us."
There was a gabble of protest at this, several others joining their voices to Flint's, among them Silver.
"Naught's been said o' slayin' ye," declared Flint. "Give up the treasure, and we'll part friends."
"Aye, aye, Master Ormerod," called Silver. "Cap'n Flint puts it straight. There ain't a man of us would wish to be your enemy."
I looked hopelessly at Peter.
"What more can we win?" I asked. "'Tis a mockery to place credence in their promises."