“What can I do?”
“Implore the captain. He may listen to you. I cannot bear it, sir; it makes me feel half mad!”
“Have you seen him?”
“Seen him? No, sir. He’s kept closely shut up in one of the stone chambers by the captain’s quarters, and two men watch him night and day.”
“As I am watched,” said Humphrey, bitterly.
“Yes, sir; but you have not been untrue to your captain. You are not sentenced to death, and every man eager to see you hung. My poor Dennis! It is my fault, too. Why did we ever meet?”
Humphrey was silent.
“You will see the captain, sir, and ask him to spare his life?”
Humphrey ground his teeth. To ask Dinny’s life was to ask a favour of Mary Dell, and to place himself under greater obligations still.
“That is not all the trouble,” said the woman, who was evidently sobbing bitterly. “That wretch Mazzard is still at liberty.”