"Why? You see that topsail schooner away along on the left? Well, I haven't told you before, but that's where the swag is—aboard the schooner Mollyhawk—waiting for me!"
"I'm not coming," said I stoutly. "You're a desperate man, Deedes. I know you; none of your hanky-panky. Go you and fetch it. I stay where I am."
"My good fellow, it's far too heavy for one to carry. There's hundreds and hundreds in gold!"
"Then bring your accomplice. I'm not frightened of you!" said I fiercely. "I see a man within a hundred yards; he's coming this way; I shall have him by to see fair-play."
"Oh, call him then!" cried Deedes, with an oath. "No," he added with another, "I'll do it for you. Not to trust a fellow in a mess like this!"
It was a very low cry that he uttered, but the man came up in a moment. I was surprised that he had heard it at all, surprised also but more puzzled by a something familiar in his size and gait. And yet not until he was up with us, and shaking hands with Deedes, did I recognise my burly adversary of the church hard at hand.
"Help! help!" I cried, with sudden insight.
"My dear old chap, what nonsense!" said Deedes, throwing an arm round my neck. Something was pressed across my mouth—something moist and cool like a dog's nose—and held there, as I was held, while sense and strength ebbed out together. Then the masts and spars of ships flew to the stars in a soundless explosion; and I knew no more.