“Ah, Dinny, my lad!” he said as he heard a step, and the hanging curtain was drawn aside, “what is it to-day?”
“Fish, eggs, and fruit,” said Bart, gruffly.
“Oh! it’s you!” said Humphrey, bitterly. “Dinny away with that cursed schooner!”
“Schooner’s as fine a craft as ever sailed,” growled Bart. “Orders to answer no questions.”
“You need not answer, my good fellow,” said the prisoner, haughtily. “That scoundrel of a buccaneer is away—I know that, and Dinny is with him, or you would not be doing this.”
Bart’s heavy face lightened as he saw the bitterness of the prisoner’s manner when he spoke of the captain; but it grew sombre directly after, as if he resented it; and spreading the meal upon a broad stone, covered with a white cloth—a stone in front of the great idol, and probably once used for human sacrifice—he sullenly left the place.
The prisoner sat for a few minutes by the window wondering whether Lady Jenny was thinking about him, and sighed as he told himself that she was pining for him as he pined for her. Then turning to the mid-day meal he began with capital appetite, and not at all after the fashion of a man in love, to discuss some very excellent fish, which was made more enjoyable by a flask of fine wine.
“Yes,” he said, half aloud, “I shall go just where I please.”
He stopped and listened, for a voice certainly whispered from somewhere close at hand the word “Kelly!”
“Yes! what is it? Who called?” said the prisoner, aloud.