"It is repentance."
"Why," says I, "did you ever know a pirate repent?"
At this he was startled a little, and returned.
"At the gallows I have known one, and I hope thou wilt be the second."
He spoke this very affectionately, with an appearance of concern for me.
"My proposal," William went on, "is for thy good as well as my own. We may put an end to this kind of life, and repent."
"Look you, William," says I, "let me have your proposal for putting an end to our present way of living first, and you and I will talk of the other afterwards."
"Nay," says William, "thou art in the right there; we must never talk of repenting while we continue pirates."
"Well," says I, "William, that's what I meant; for if we must not reform, as well as be sorry for what is done, I have no notion what repentance means: the nature of the thing seems to tell me that the first step we have to take is to break off this wretched course. Dost thou think it practicable for us to put an end to our unhappy way of living, and get off?"
"Yes," says he, "I think it very practicable."