Commodore Junk

“What message, sor?”

At that moment the steps which had been heard coming as it were down some long stone corridor halted at the doorway of the prisoner’s chamber, someone drew aside a heavy rug, and the buccaneer, wearing a broad-leafed hat which shaded his face, entered the place.

“You can go, Dinny.”

“Yis, sor, I’m going,” said Dinny, obsequiously; and, after a glance at the prisoner, he hurriedly obeyed.

There was only a gloomy greenish twilight in the old chamber, such light as there was striking in through the forest-shaded window, and with his back to this, and retaining his hat, the captain seated himself upon a rug covered chest.

“You sent for me,” he said, in a deep, abrupt tone.

Humphrey looked at him intently, the dark eyes meeting his, and the thick black brows contracted as the gaze was prolonged.

“You sent for me,” he repeated, abruptly; “what more do you want?”

“I will tell you after a while,” said Humphrey; “but first of all let me thank you for the kind treatment I have received at your hands.”

“You need not thank me,” was the short reply. “Better treatment than you would have given me.”

“Well, yes,” said Humphrey. “I am afraid it is.”

“Your cousin would have hung me.”

“My cousin! What do you know of my cousin!”

“England is little. Every Englishman of mark is known.”

Humphrey looked at him curiously, and for the moment it seemed to him that he had heard that voice before, but his memory did not help him.

“My cousin would have done his duty,” he said, gravely.

“His duty!” cried the captain, bitterly. “Your country has lost a treasure in the death of that man, sir.”

“Good heavens, man! What do you know – ”

“Enough, sir. Let Captain James Armstrong rest. The name is well represented now by a gentleman, and it is to that fact that Captain Humphrey owes his life.”

The latter stared at the speaker wonderingly.

“Well, sir, why have you sent for me!”

“To thank you, Commodore Junk, and to ask you a question or two.”

“Go on, sir. Perhaps I shall not answer you.”

“I will risk it,” said Humphrey, watching him narrowly, “You spared my life. Why?”

“I told you.”

“Then you will give me my liberty?”

“What for? – to go away and return with another and better-manned ship to take us and serve the captain of the schooner as I have served you?”

“No. I wish to return home.”

“What for?”

“Surely you cannot expect me to wish to stay here!”

“Why do you wish to go home to meet disgrace?”

Humphrey started at having his own words repeated.

“To be tried by court martial for the loss of your ship! Stay where you are, sir, and grow strong and well.”

“If I stay here, sir, when I have full liberty to go, shall I not be playing the part of the coward you called me when I was beaten down?”

“You will not have full liberty to go, Captain Armstrong,” said his captor, quietly. “You forget that you are a prisoner.”

“You do not intend to kill me and my men?”

“We are not butchers, sir,” was the cold reply.

“Then what is your object in detaining us. Is it ransom?”

“Possibly.”

“Name the sum, then, sir, and if it is in my power it shall be paid.”

“It is too soon to talk of ransom, Captain Armstrong,” said his visitor, “you are weak and ill yet. Be patient, and grow well and strong. Some day I will talk over this matter with you again. But let me, before I go, warn you to be careful not to attempt to escape, or to encourage either of your men to make the attempt. Even I could not save you then, for the first man you met would shoot you down. Besides that risk, escape is impossible by land; and we shall take care that you do not get away by sea. Now, sir, have I listened to all you have to say?”

“One word, sir. I am growing stronger every day. Will you grant me some freedom?”

“Captain Armstrong is a gentleman,” said his visitor; “if he will give his word that he will not attempt to escape, he shall be free to go anywhere within the bounds of our little settlement.”

Humphrey sat thinking, with his brow knit and his teeth compressed.

“No,” he said; “that would be debarring myself from escaping.”

“You could not escape.”

“I should like to try,” said Humphrey, smiling.

“It would be utter madness, sir. Give me your word of honour that you will not attempt to leave this old palace, and you shall come and go as you please.”

“No, sir, I will remain a prisoner with the chances open.”

“As you will,” said the buccaneer, coldly; and he rose and left the chamber, looking thoughtful and absent, while Humphrey lay back on his couch, gazing hard at the great stone idol, as if he expected to gain information from its stern mysterious countenance.