He had been almost relenting into pity for the man captured before his eyes; now he abhorred him.
Kinraid did not speak for a minute or two.

The sailors, who had begun to take him into favour, were all agog with curiosity to hear the message to his sweetheart, which they believed he was going to send.

Hepburn's perceptions, quickened with his vehement agitation of soul, were aware of this feeling of theirs; and it increased his rage against Kinraid, who had exposed the idea of Sylvia to be the subject of ribald whispers.

But the specksioneer cared little what others said or thought about the maiden, whom he yet saw before his closed eyelids as she stood watching him, from the Haytersbank gully, waving her hands, her handkerchief, all in one passionate farewell.
'What do yo' want wi' me ?' asked Hepburn at last in a gloomy tone.
If he could have helped it, he would have kept silence till Kinraid spoke first; but he could no longer endure the sailors' nudges, and winks, and jests among themselves.
'Tell Sylvia,' said Kinraid---- 'There's a smart name for a sweetheart,' exclaimed one of the men; but Kinraid went straight on,-- 'What yo've seen; how I've been pressed by this cursed gang.' 'Civil words, messmate, if you please.

Sylvia can't abide cursing and swearing, I'm sure.