"Easy, shipmate, easy!" says he, leaning back in his chair but keeping me covered.
"Damned rogue!" I panted.
"True!" he nodded, "True, Martin, vengeance is kin to roguery, d'ye see. If you're for murdering the father what's to hinder you from giving the proud daughter up to—steady, Martin, steady it is! Your sudden ways be apt to startle a timid man and my finger's on the trigger. Look'ee now, shipmate, if your scheme of fine-gentlemanly vengeance doth not permit of such methods towards a woman, what's to prevent you going on another track and carrying her with you, safe from all chance of brutality? There's stowage for her in the long-boat, which is a stout, roomy craft now towing astern, stored and victualled, a smooth sea, a fair wind—"
"Hark'ee, Adam Penfeather," says I, choking with passion, "once and for all I bide on this ship until she brings up off Hispaniola."
"But then, Martin, she never will bring up off Hispaniola, not whiles I navigate her!"
"Ha!" I cried, "Doth my lady know of this? Doth Sir Rupert?"
"Not yet, Martin."
"Then, by Heaven, they shall learn this very hour!"
"I think not, Martin."
"And I swear they shall. Let them hang me an they will, but first they shall hear you intend to seize the ship to your own purposes—aye, by God, they shall know you for the pirate you are!"