“’Pon my word I ain’t,” said Tim. “I wasn’t born at all; leastways, not as I knows on, for old Sir Richard Warbeck found me in his stables one morning bright and early, and in them there stables I’ve been all my life since.”
“Sir Richard Warbeck, eh?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“I should think I do,” said the unknown; “and a nice old fellow he is, too. He has two adopted nephews, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, young Wildfire Ned, and Charley Warbeck, who’s in the East India House in London.”
“Just so.”
“And what brought you up that cypress tree?”
“Why, you see, Master Ned and I attacked the Skeleton Crew, and, as they were too many for us, I hooked it up the tree out of the way, and fell through the hollow trunk, and——”
“Found yourself here, eh? Just so. But who told you there was any secret way into this cavern through that tree?”
“No one.”