He had heard the distant step of his guardian, and then there was silence, for Bart seemed to creep up and listen before entering, which he did at last, to find the prisoner muttering to himself and eating the grapes.
“Done?”
“Yes. You can clear away.”
Bart obeyed and turned to go, but as he reached the curtain—
“You have plenty of cigars?” he said.
“I?”
“Ah, well, I’ve got some there,” growled Bart, and he handed the prisoner half a dozen roughly-made rolls of the tobacco-leaf. “Now, you understand,” he continued, as he made to go once more, “you’re to keep here till the skipper comes back.”
“Are you afraid I shall escape?” said Humphrey, contemptuously.
“Not a bit, captain; but when one man’s life depends on another’s, it makes him careful.”
The curtain dropped behind him, and Humphrey stood listening and thinking.