“No one?” cried Knoulton.
“Well, may be I was wrong there,” returned the pirate. “And I’m sure if you thought my sleep would be lighter or more pleasant by pointing it out, or do anything, you would do it—that I am quite certain of. It’s something for a man to say he has picked up a friend—a true and staunch one—a thousand miles from his home, in a prison.”
“Did you never know your parents?” said Knoulton.
“No, never,” answered the pirate. “I wish somehow or another that I had. But what’s the use of overhauling that now that my grog is stopped? For, with or without family, I must founder, and, perhaps, it’s better that I should. There is nobody to let tears run out of their lee scuppers for my sake. It is better as it is—much better.”
Mat Murdock paused from exhaustion, and his face, which had been flushed, now grew deathly pale.
No. 63.
PEACE ENTERTAINS TWO DETECTIVES TO DINNER.
Walter Knoulton saw that it was time he took some nourishment, and he at once proceeded to give him some light nutritious food.
The pirate panted for breath, and a cold clammy perspiration broke out all over him.