But this not being convenient, it had come to him that he would marry the wench to the gaily bedecked young fellow he had captured, and it filled his reckless heart with a wild delight.

He drew his cutlass, and with a great oath he drove the heavy blade into the top of the table, and he swore by this mark that his grand plan should be carried out.
He would sail over to England; this would be a happy chance, for his vessel was unladen and ready for any adventure.

He would drop anchor in the quiet cove he knew of; he would go ashore by night; he would be at home again.

To be at home again made him shout with profane laughter, the little home he remembered would be so ridiculous to him now.

He would see again his poor little trembling wife--she must be gray by now--and he was sure that she would tremble more than ever she did when she heard the great sea oaths which he was accustomed to pour forth now.
And his daughter, she must be a strapping wench by this time; he was sure she could stand a slap on the back which would kill her mother.
Yes, there should be a wedding, a fine wedding, and good old rum should water the earth.