Bonnet was a little embarrassed by the peculiarity of the situation, but his heart was true to his new career.
"Friend Marchand," he said, "I see that you do not understand the state of affairs, and Ben Greenway there should have told you the moment he met you. I am no longer a planter of Barbadoes; I am a pirate of the sea, and the Jolly Roger floats above my ship. I belong to no nation; my hand is against all the world. You and your ship have been captured by me and my men, and your cargo is my prize. Now, what have you got on board, where do you hail from, and whither are you bound?"
Captain Marchand looked at him fixedly.
"I sailed from London with a cargo of domestic goods for Kingston; thence, having disposed of most of my cargo, I am on my way to Bridgetown, where I hope to sell the remainder."
"Your goods will never reach Bridgetown," cried Bonnet; "they belong now to my men and me."
"What!" cried Ben Greenway, "ye speak wi'out sense or reason. Hae ye forgotten that this is Mr. Abner Marchand, your fellow-vestryman an' your senior warden? An' to him do ye talk o' takin' awa' his goods an' legal chattels?"
Bonnet looked at Greenway with indignation and contempt.
"Now listen to me," he yelled. "To the devil with the vestry and da—" the Scotchman's eyes and mouth were so rounded with horror that Bonnet stopped and changed his form of expression—"confound the senior warden. I am the pirate Bonnet, and regard not the Church of England."
"Nor your friends?" interpolated Ben.
"Nor friends nor any man," shouted Bonnet.