“For heaven’s sake, be silent!” panted Dutch, grasping his arm.
“She looks, poor little woman,” continued the captain, paying no heed to his appeal, “as if a few weeks’ neglect from you will kill her.”
“I cannot, I will not listen to you,” said Dutch, hoarsely, and with the veins in his temples swelling.
“I will say no more about that, then,” said the captain, “but confide to you what I wish to say.”
“Go on.”
“Well, I may be wrong, but I have been trying to think it out ever since we started, and I have said nothing to Parkley because I am so uncertain.”
“I do not understand you,” said Dutch, looking at him curiously.
“I hardly understand myself,” replied the captain; “but I will try to explain. In the first place, you or we have made a deadly enemy in our Cuban acquaintance.”
“Undoubtedly,” exclaimed Dutch.
“One who would do anything to serve his ends—to stop us from getting to the place Oakum professes to know.”