“What is that?”
“Promise me to search for the treasure after I am dead.”
Young Knoulton hesitated.
“Will you promise?” said the pirate, still more earnestly.
“Yes, I will.”
“Good. Well, then, the doctor has left some sheets of paper and a pen and ink on that table. I will make you a rough drawing of the spot where it is buried. I am not much of a hand at drawing, but I’ve done a chart or two in my time—so let’s go ahead.”
Knoulton gave him the requisite materials, and Murdock sat up in bed and made a tolerably accurate drawing of the spot and its surroundings. When this was completed, he fell back upon his pillow in a state of exhaustion.
A death-like pallor overspread his features, and he drew his breath with difficulty.
“Give me your hand, Walter,” said he. “Ah, that’s well, pray for me, my friend. I have heard that when the chaplain prays for a sinner he makes an easier passage aloft, but if you now could say a word or two for me, I am sure it would do more than parson’s lingo!”
“I will, indeed—I will, messmate,” cried the young man.