and steady.

"Be easy, now. One thing at a time. Your back's taking no harm at
all for the present, since I've covered it up. I'm wanting to know
what's happened to you. D' ye think we can do without a navigator
that ye go and provoke that beast Bishop until he all but kills you?"

Pitt sat up and groaned again. But this time his anguish was mental
rather than physical.

"I don't think a navigator will be needed this time, Peter."

"What's that?" cried Mr. Blood.

Pitt explained the situation as briefly as he could, in a halting,
gasping speech. "I'm to rot here until I tell him the identity of
my visitor and his business."

Mr. Blood got up, growling in his throat. "Bad cess to the filthy
slaver!" said he. "But it must be contrived, nevertheless. To the
devil with Nuttall! Whether he gives surety for the boat or not,
whether he explains it or not, the boat remains, and we're going,
and you're coming with us."

"You're dreaming, Peter," said the prisoner. "We're not going this
time. The magistrates will confiscate the boat since the surety's
not paid, even if when they press him Nuttall does not confess the
whole plan and get us all branded on the forehead."

Mr. Blood turned away, and with agony in his eyes looked out to sea