"What I tried to tell you was the truth," I murmured, the words spilling fast from my tongue. "Indeed it was so! Peter Corlaer had the right of it. We two are no pirates, and all that we ha' done has been intended to make smooth your way."
There was a wistful light in her eyes as she lifted them under long, black lashes.
"God send you be honest, sir," she said. "I—I must wait to judge. The world is gone all twirly-round. Even the padre——"
She choked back a sob.
"You will not misunderstand," she ended with quiet dignity, "if I say no more that maybe already ha' said too much."
CHAPTER XIV
THE DEAD MAN'S CHEST
When I returned to the main cabin Ben Gunn was placing the food on the table, and my great-uncle was removing the liquor from Colonel O'Donnell's reach.
"We have had sufficient to drink, Ben," he said and, heedless of the Irishman's disappointed face, waved away that which had been before them as well as the new array of bottles one of the lackeys bore upon a silver tray.
Nothing more was said until the steward and the negroes had retired. Then Murray sat forward in his chair.