“Well, well, my boy?” demanded the squire.
“He told me that Capt. Silver was his own father!”
“Good Heaven!” exclaimed the earl.
The squire was silent for a moment, and then said, in the most emphatic manner:
“I don’t believe it! It is not true!”
“Oh! sir, it was true—too true! He had every proof of its truth! Therefore, you understand that poor Roland, if he was a prisoner among the blockade runners and a witness to deeds even more unlawful and more criminal, could not open his mouth with explanations that might be fatal to Capt. Silver.”
“The scoundrel is no more Roland’s father than I am! No, not by an infinite distance, for I have been a father to the boy ever since he was a baby. And I know that scoundrel is nothing to him! I know the reason why he told such a falsehood to the young man. It was to get him into his power and seal his lips! Did Roland, for instance, tell you how he came to be separated from Capt. Grandiere, and to be on board the blockade runner, or rather the pirate, as she really was?”
“No, sir. I explained to you that he would tell me nothing but that fate had brought him there.”
“Of course. Then I will tell you. Capt. Grandiere’s ship, the Kitty, was taken by the pirate Argente about six weeks since only. Her crew were put into open boats and sent adrift to sink or swim, find land or perish, as fate might will. Her two officers, Skipper Grandiere and Mate Bayard, were taken prisoners, and brought on board the Argente, while a part of the pirate crew were sent on board the Kitty, to take her, with her rich cargo, to some port—Heaven knows where! That is how young Bayard came on board the pirate ship.”
“Is—it—possible!” exclaimed Le, in amazement.