“To come back with a strong force and destroy us.”
“Ah, I never thought of that! Make him swear he wouldn’t. He’d keep his word.”
“But his men would not, Bart. No; he will have to stay.”
“Let him loose, then, to run about the place. He can’t get away.”
“I am afraid.”
“What of?”
“Some trouble arising. Mazzard does not like him.”
“Ah! I never thought o’ that neither,” returned Bart, gloomily. “Black Mazzard’s always grumbling about his being kept.”
The buccaneer took a turn or two up and down the quarters he occupied in the vast range of buildings buried in the forest, a mile back from the head of the harbour where his schooner lay; and Bart watched him curiously till he stopped, with his face twitching, and the frown deepening upon his brow.
“He will not give his word of honour not to attempt to escape, Bart,” said the captain, pausing at last before his follower.