“I have sent for you to write a brief letter to Dr. Barosa telling him what has occurred,” I said without preface.
“What use are you going to make of it?”
“Just what I decide. It is possible that I may not speak of this thing at all.”
“I’ll tell you everything if you’ll put me ashore,” he said after a pause.
“Characteristic, but out of the question.”
“Then I won’t write a word.”
“Very well. Then I’ll get one of the others.”
He looked at me eagerly, as if my words suggested a hope that matters would be made easier if he complied. “Why do you want to hound us down?”
“So far as you are concerned, your old companion, Prelot, will do that.”
He caught his breath with a shudder at the mention of the name. “That letter to Barosa will do no good. After you showed you knew about me, I begged and prayed him to do the only thing that would get rid of you—and he refused.”