“Why do you insist that I will not command this ship? You can not command two ships! Or are you afraid of what I might do if you give me a command!”
“William McNeal fears no man, even less what any man does. I choose not give you a ship. That should be enough for you. Unless you wish that your days should end now?”
“Do you whish your days to end now?” Maturin shouted growing angrier by the second.
“Let me put it this way, my friend.” replied McNeal, staring out at the ship in question. “If I were to give you that ship, I have no doubt that you would turn around and sail back where you came from and proceed to tell every brotherhood captain you met of the untold riches of Richontor, causing every brethren vessel in port to promptly come sailing after me. I would not enjoy sinking our fellow captains, Maturin. What is more, you would not get a single piece of the whole trove, even if you survived the venture.”
“You know well enough that I do not have the least part of a hint concerning the location of that island, and also know enough not to send all the brethren out on a wild goose chase and, consequentially, have them all desiring me dead!”
“So it appears that you accept my offer of passage?” McNeal answered, staring out to sea in an attempt to hide the devious expression that had sprung to his face suddenly.
“I have never before met a man, of the brethren or otherwise, who would dare to call inviting an acquaintance aboard and then sailing off, like a coward, while that man’s ship sank behind him, an offer of passage! Your days are numbered, McNeal!”
“Maybe they are, but you, Maturin, are too weak to tell me just how many days I have.” McNeal walked off, calling to his lieutenant “Rouse out the topsails! Smartly now!”
As McNeal’s crew began to rouse out the sails he had ordered, Maturin, from his position on the quarterdeck, stood watching them. “I’ll teach him that no man treats Jack Maturin the way he has done and lives. But how shall I go about doing that? Ah… The brig! Exactly! None better!” Concluding this thought, Maturin promptly left the quarterdeck. Striding across to the nearest hatchway, he had soon disappeared below the deck.