“Of course I do,” said the middy, merrily. “Think you’re the only gentleman in the world?”
It was Aleck’s turn to feel slightly husky in the throat, but he turned away to the rough basket and began to hand out its contents, joining his companion in eating hungrily, both working away in silence for a time.
Then the ex-prisoner opened the conversation, beginning to talk in a boisterous, careless way.
“I say, Aleck, we shall have plenty of time before lying down to sleep. Let’s light two or three candles and have a jolly good rummage of the smugglers’ stores.”
“We will,” cried the lad addressed.
“I shouldn’t wonder if we find all sorts of things. Treasure, perhaps, from wrecked vessels. I wouldn’t bet that these people hadn’t been pirates in their time. That Eben, as you call him—I say, it ought to be Ebony—he looks a regular Blackbeard, skull-and-crossbones sort of a customer. We’ll collar anything that seems particularly good. I’m just in the humour to say I’ve as good a right to what there is as anybody else; but we’ll share—fair halves. I say!”
“What?”
“Old Blackbeard will stare when he finds that we’ve opened the irons. My word, I must go and see Mrs Ebony again. Nice woman she is, and no mistake.”
“Did she fasten the iron ring on your ankle?”
“Well, no; I think it was an ugly old woman of the party; but I couldn’t be sure, for they half killed me—smothered me, you know—and when I came the half way back to life the job was done.”