"Yes—for his sake, —— you! Robert, no violence. We are in a coil we can not escape for the present; but rest assured I will do everything I can to secure your release."
My great-uncle motioned Silver forward.
"Make Master Ormerod as comfortable as possible, John," he instructed. "Yes, tie him in his chair. By the way, Ormerod, touching your last observation, I would remind you that every shot fired at my ship will be as likely to strike Robert as another. Accept my advice, and leave well enough alone. Within a year, possibly—two, at most—the boy will be safe and advanced in fortune beyond your wildest dreams."
"Let me have him back as he is—'tis all I ask," groaned my father.
Murray took snuff.
"A highly correct attitude, sir," he remarked. "Have you more to say? Very well, John; you may affix the gag. No, not that gunnysacking. Here is a silken kerchief will do. And now, friend Peter, we turn to you—and you, Nephew Robert. I would these precautions were unnecessary. Let us trust your inclinations will become more friendly toward me upon closer acquaintance."
CHAPTER IV
AN INKLING OF THE PLOT
My poor father's face, with the tears standing in his eyes, was the last object I saw in the wan light of the guttering candles. The next moment my captors lugged me into the darkness of the garden and pushed me upon a hand-cart such as was used to fetch up the frailer kinds of merchandise from the docks. Peter's immense body already occupied most of the cart's cramped space, and I was squeezed precariously between him and the near side, the which Silver perceiving he prodded Peter into a more restricted compass and then spread a tarpaulin over both of us.
"There ye are, my gentlemen," he said cheerfully. "Safe as a round of beef and a side o' pork, says you—and you says right. Ah, captain, we're ready here whenever you are, sir."