"I say sheer off and leave me to my sleep lest I mischief you."
"Ha' ye no lust for riches, then?"
"No more than I have to your company and I love that less and less."
"'Tis pity!" says he, shaking his head. "Aye, 'tis pity, for I do like you more and more, such a fine blood-and-beef, dare-and-be-damned, gibbet-like figure of a rogue, shipmate, as would grace a cross-roads better than most, which is one reason I was drawn to ye, d'ye see, I being a quiet soul--"
"And a pirate, like as not!"
"Easy, shipmate, easy. Passion is an ill word to steer by. And I'm a lonely man as seeks a comrade--"
"And I'm a lonely man that loveth solitude, so e'en now will I go seek it!" and I rose.
"Stay a bit, shipmate, haul your wind and listen!" says he, laying hand on my arm. "Stand in wi' me, blow high, blow low, and I offer you--wealth untold--riches, fortune--"
"Tush!" says I, "empty things all." At this his hold tightened while his keen gaze held mine.
"More than this," says he slowly, "I offer you rank, honours, power and mayhap--love, shipmate."
"Enough!" quoth I. "You offer nought I desire."
"Why then," says he, "in the Fiend's name what would ye have?"
"Vengeance!" I answered, and shaking off his grasp I turned and strode away along the dusty road.