“No. At that point the yacht will be turned back to your father, and he can cruise until the crack o’ doom without further interference from yours truly.”
“That’s your word?”
“It is—and I will keep it. Anything else?”
“Yes. I will play the game as it lies, provided that Miss Norman is in nowise interfered with or annoyed.”
“How is she taking it?”
“Neither I nor the crew will bother her. She shall come and go free as the gull in the air. If at any time the men do not observe the utmost politeness toward her you will do me a favour to report to me. That’s my word, and I promise to keep it, even if I have to kill a man or two. I wish to come through clean in the hands so far as your father, Miss Norman, and yourself are concerned. I’m risking my neck and my liberty, for this is piracy on the high seas. But every man is entitled to one good joke during his lifetime, and when we raise the Catwick I’ll explain this joke in full. If you don’t chuckle, then you haven’t so much as a grain of humour in your make-up.”
“Well, there’s nothing for me to do but take your word as you give it.”
“That’s the way to talk. Now, Flint, this bay or lagoon——”
The voice dropped into a low, indistinguishable murmur. Dennison realized that the moment had come to depart; the edge of the encounter was in Cunningham’s favour and to remain would only serve to sharpen this edge. So he went outside, slamming the door behind him.