Bradish began to blubber. “I'm not prepared to die,” he protested.
Mayo studied his passenger for some time, wrinkling his brows. “Bradish, listen to me a moment!”
The New-Yorker gave him as much attention as terror and grief permitted.
“There isn't much we can do just now to fix up our general earthly affairs. But we may as well clean the slate between us two. That will help our consciences a little. I haven't any quarrel with you any more. We won't be mushy about it. But let's cross it off.”
“It's all over,” mourned Bradish. “So what's the use of bearing grudges?”
“I suppose it's true that the court has indicted me for manslaughter. Bradish, tell me, man to man, whether I've got to go into those breakers with that on my conscience!”
“I don't know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do! You know whether those men of the schooner Warren were drowned by any criminal mistake of mine or not!”
Bradish did not speak.
“You wouldn't have said as much to Captain Downs if you hadn't known something,” insisted the victim of the plot.