To tell the truth, however, I was not half so calm as I appeared to be.
Cruel fate seemed to have woven her meshes about me once again.
Slim Lim, with deep cunning, had set another task for me which seemed so impossible of performance that he doubtless was already congratulating himself and applauding his own skilfully devised plan for holding me prisoner.
He had demanded that I should “write my name” before going forth; he had been most careful to use the word “write” so that I should not be permitted to use a brush after the manner of his people; but must have recourse to a pen after the manner of my own.
Feeling pretty confident in his mind that I would not have a pen in my possession, he had ground for flattering himself that I was still in his power.
Bulger caught a glimpse of the shadow that had settled upon my face, and whined nervously.
A thought struck me!
A quill will save me!
I looked towards the parrot.
Ah! deep-laid plan to rob me of my liberty!