“What’s that, boy?”
“Till this thing is all settled, let’s not talk about it any more. No more than is strictly necessary. Please don’t discuss it with the doctor, or with Ezra!”
“Ezra knows nothing. The doctor may talk a little, but I’ll discourage it. From now on, Hal, there’ll be very little said.”
“If you see Laura—”
“Not a word to her. And from now on, Hal, you’re going to make amends for what you’ve done, and live it down, and prove yourself a man?”
“Why, sure!”
“You mean that, boy?”
“Of course I mean it! What shall I swear it on? The blue-throated Mahadeo of the Hindus, or Vishnu the Destroyer, or Ratna Mutnu Manikam, the Malay Great God of Death? All three, if you say so!”
The captain shivered again, as if the cold breath of ghosts from far, terrible graves had suddenly blown upon him.
“I wish you wouldn’t talk that way, Hal,” said he tremulously. “Just give me your word of honor. Will you?”