“Would you take mine,” said Humphrey, scornfully, “if our places were changed! I shall escape.”
The buccaneer smiled.
“You have an easy master, captain,” he said, quietly; “but I would like to see you wear your chains more easily. Humphrey Armstrong, you cannot escape. There is only one way from this place, and that is by the sea, and there is no need to guard that. Look here,” he cried, laying his hand upon the prisoner’s arm, “you have been planning this for days and days. You have lain out yonder upon that stone by the old palace, calculating how you could creep away; and you found your opportunity to-day, when you said to yourself, ‘These people are all asleep now, and I will find my way round to where my men are prisoners.’”
As he spoke Humphrey changed colour and winced, for the buccaneer seemed to have read his every thought.
“And then you came upon this path through the forest, and you felt that this was the way to freedom.”
“Are you a devil?” cried Humphrey, excitedly.
“Perhaps,” was the mocking reply. “Perhaps only the great butterfly you watched before you started, as it lazily winged its way among the broken stones.”
Humphrey uttered an exclamation, and gazed wildly in the dark, mocking eyes.
“Never mind what I am, captain, but pray understand this—you cannot escape from here. When you think you are most alone, there are eyes upon you which see your every act, and your movements are all known.”
“I will not believe it,” cried Humphrey, angrily.