That most devilish o' all demons has presarved the rest o' your life from the dishonour an' the infamy which ye were labourin' to heap upon it.

Ye are a poor mon now, Master Bonnet; that Beelzebub will strip from ye everything ye had, all your riches shall be his.

Ye can no longer afford to be a pirate; ye will be compelled to be an honest mon.

An' I tell ye that my soul lifteth itsel' in thanksgivin' an' my heart is happier than it has been since that fearsome day when ye went on board your vessel at Bridgetown." "Ben," said Bonnet, "it is hard and it is cruel, that in this, the time of my great trouble, you turn upon me.

I have been robbed; I have been ruined; my life is of no more use to me, and you, Ben Greenway, revile me while that I am prostrate." "Revile!" said the Scotchman.