"Oh, will you?" said Saltash. "And so remain--a blot on my escutcheon for
all time. Well now, look here! You say you're honest?"

"Yes, sir," said Toby with breathless assurance, and sprang up and stood
before him with the words, as though challenging criticism.

Saltash poked at him with his foot, as he sat. "Make me a promise?" he
asked casually.

"Anything you wish, my lord," said Toby promptly.

Saltash grinned at him. "Be careful! I see you are of a rash and
impulsive disposition, and I like my slaves to have a little discretion.
The promise I want is that whatever happens to you,--however much I kick
you or bash you or generally ill-use you--you'll never jump overboard or
do anything silly of that kind. Is it done?"

Toby was standing before him, facing him with straight, candid eyes. He
did not seem surprised at the suggestion so coolly made. Saltash noted
that it certainly did not shock him.

"All right, sir," he said, after a moment.

"It's a promise, is it?" said Saltash.

Toby nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good!" said Saltash. He stretched out a hand and took him by one skinny
arm. "Better now?" he asked.