Sir Harry could not speak awhile for astonishment. At length he says, speaking low:
"Are you sure of this you tell me, Pengilly? Are you honest with me?"
"I'll say nothing for my honesty," says I; "but I'll swear to the truth to what I tell you. There's not a man but is already a pirate at heart; and they only want a signal from Rodrigues to kill us and hoist the bloody flag."
Sir Harry started up, and took a pace or two across the cabin; then, coming to a stand, he turns and says:
"No, Pengilly; I can't believe this. Tell me you have tried to fool me, and I'll forgive you."
"Nay, but you must believe," says I, "or you can not escape else"; and then I laid bare all that I knew, with my own share in the villainous scheme, not sparing myself the shame of this confession. He listened to me patiently, but when I came to an end he says, with passion:
"God forgive you, Pengilly! for my ruin is on your head."
But presently growing calmer, for I made no attempt to defend myself from this charge, he adds:
"Take no heed of what I said, Benet. You have done no more nor less than I, or a better man than I, could have done in your place. You risk your life in trying to save mine, whereas you might have made your fortune (though I doubt if you could ever have enjoyed it) by betraying me."
"He held out his hand, and I took it. Then in a more cheerfull and vigorous tone, he says: