"Oh, he is quiet now—I dare say asleep," said the captain, with a sardonic grin in the darkness.
Leicester made some rejoinder, and he walked on until the chapel came in sight.
"Strange," mused Leicester; "an hour ago I was longing for Africa; now I would not exchange England for ten undiscovered worlds."
"The wind shifts rapidly," said the captain, with his soft, treacherous laugh, "and the weathercock obeys it with all cheerfulness."
Leicester was too happy to resent the sneer, and the next moment they entered the chapel.
"Dark as pitch," he said. "Here is the torch. I do not see—where are you?" he broke off to ask, for the captain had suddenly left his side.
"Here," said the captain.
Leicester turned, but before he could utter another word he felt his arms pinned to his sides, and a bandage thrown over his mouth.
He struggled hard and furiously to free his arms and mouth, but his unseen assailants were four to one, and, after a few moments, he gave up the ineffectual resistance, and knelt, for he had been forced on to his knees at last, nevertheless glaring impotently round him.