"I canna talk about that now," said Ben impatiently, "ye think too much o' the man's body, Dickory, an' I am considerin' his soul."
"And I am considering his daughter," said Dickory fearlessly; "do you suppose I am going to help to have her father hanged?" and with these words he made a movement towards the door.
The eager Scotchman seized him. "Dickory, bethink yoursel'," said he. "I don't want to hang him, I want to save him, body an' soul. We will get him awa' from here after the ship has gone, he will be helpless then, he canna be a pirate a minute longer, an' he will give up an' do what I tell him. We can leave before there is ony talk o' trial or hangin'. Run, Dickory, run! Ye're sinfully losin' time. Think o' his soul, Dickory; it's his only chance!"
With a great jerk Dickory freed himself from the grasp of the Scotchman.
"It is Kate Bonnet I am thinking of!" he exclaimed, and with that he bolted into the church.
The captain was examining the little pulpit. "Haste ye! haste ye!" cried Dickory, "your men are all hurrying to the boats, they will leave you behind if they can; that's what they are after."
"Haste ye! haste ye," cried Dickory, "they will leave you behind."
Bonnet turned quickly. He took in the situation in a second. With a few bounds he was out of the church, nearly overturning Ben Greenway as he passed him. Without a word he ran down the street, his cane thrown away, and his drawn sword in his hand.