“Do you mean that he is dead?”
Simon nodded.
“Dead,” the sailor continued, “and lying beneath the sands, unless, as is no doubt the case, the waves have ere this washed his body out to sea.”
The Captain looked at Simon curiously and then at me.
“Before my lord died,” resumed Simon, “he called to me, and with almost his last words swore me that I would do as he bade me, so that he might be revenged on the man who had slain him.”
I started at this, for I began to see which way the wind blew.
“Having given my oath,” went on Simon, “I left my master, after he had been foully slain----”
“’Tis a lie!” I cried, white with anger. “Sir George was killed in a fair combat, and he would have made an end of me had not his sword broke.”
In great wonder Captain Carteret held up his hand to end our dispute, and Simon resumed.
“He gave me a message,” he said, like a child who repeats a lesson well learned, “and it was of this import. ‘Say to Sir George Carteret, or to his representative, that a traitor walks abroad in the land. I pray you to see to it that he is taken and sent to England to answer for the crime against His Majesty. As you are my friend fail not.’ And I took an oath that I would do this, which I have done. Before he died Sir George Keith gave me a parchment to give to the Governor, when I should find him, as I have now, or one who stands for him. Therefore I have kept my oath.”