“Well, now,” said the captain, quietly, “look here, Martin. Just put this in your thick head and think it out in five minutes. You've either got to give up this girl or get away from the island. Now, I don't want to make any man feel mean, but she don't particularly care about you, and——”
The graceful creature nodded her approval or Chaplin's remarks, and Martin glared at her. Then he took a drink of gin and meditated.
Two minutes passed. Then Martin turned.
“How much?” he said.
“Fifty pounds, sonny. Two hundred and fifty dollars.”
“Easy to see you've been in the business,” mumbled Martin; “why, her mother's worth that. 'Tain't no deal.”
“Well, then, how much do you want?”
“A hundred.”
“Haven't got it on board, sonny. Take eighty sovereigns and the rest in trade or liquor?”