On his return to Jamaica after one of his expeditions it was his habit to give himself some relaxation after the hardships and dangers through which he had passed, and on such occasions it was a great comfort to Roc to get himself thoroughly drunk.

With his cutlass waving high in the air, he would rush out into the street and take a whack at every one whom he met.

As far as was possible the citizens allowed him to have the street to himself, and it was not at all likely that his visits to Jamaica were looked forward to with any eager anticipations.
Roc, it may be said, was not only a bloody pirate, but a blooded one; he was thoroughbred.

From the time he had been able to assert his individuality he had been a pirate, and there was no reason to suppose that he would ever reform himself into anything else.

There were no extenuating circumstances in his case; in his nature there was no alloy, nor moderation, nor forbearance.