“No. I’m afraid,” said Gunson, bitterly, “that we have been talking too much for him lately.”
“Mr Gunson?”
“We have scared him with our account of the troubles, and he has backed out.”
“Backed out?” I faltered, quite horrified at the idea of being left alone.
“Yes, and gone into hiding until we have sailed.”
“Oh, impossible!”
“No, my lad, quite possible. You saw how startled he was at the idea of a journey through a wild country.”
“No, no, I think not,” I said.
“I feel nearly sure of it. He had no real reason for going out this morning, and his excuses to get away were as slippery as could be. Depend upon it we shall not see him again—at least, I shall not, for of course you will wait for him.”
“If I thought he could play such a mean, deceitful trick I should go without him,” I said hotly.