“What a brute I am!” he exclaimed. “Poor Ayrton! He has as much right to speak here as any one!”
“Yes,” said Gideon Spilett, “but his reserve does him honour, and it is right to respect the feeling which he has about his sad past.”
“Certainly, Mr Spilett,” answered the sailor, “and there is no fear of my doing so again. I would rather bite my tongue off than cause Ayrton any pain! But to return to the question. It seems to me that these ruffians have no right to any pity, and that we ought to rid the island of them as soon as possible.”
“Is that your opinion, Pencroft?” asked the engineer.
“Quite my opinion.”
“And before hunting them mercilessly, you would not wait until they had committed some fresh act of hostility against us?”
“Isn’t what they have done already enough?” asked Pencroft, who did not understand these scruples.
“They may adopt other sentiments!” said Harding, “and perhaps repent.”
“They repent!” exclaimed the sailor, shrugging his shoulders.
“Pencroft, think of Ayrton!” said Herbert, taking the sailor’s hand. “He became an honest man again!”