“You’re still thick-headed, Stout. If he can hear so plainly, what’s to prevent him from chinning with some of the crew or the steward? It’s a chance we mustn’t take, for if we give out that he’s a leper and he manages to tell one of them that he was never away from the State of Maine in his life, there would likely be a very big question as to the truth of our statement.”
“Then the only vacant room is the one next to mine.”
“Exactly. We’ll put him there and leave the crew to say what shall be done with him. I’m ’way off my reckoning if they don’t insist on his going ashore the first chance. When that has been done we’ll make a big show of burning the bedding, and the thing is over.”
“Very well, sir, I shall have to give in that you can handle this matter better than I. Now, if you’ll take care of the balance of the job it’ll be a big weight off my mind. I couldn’t face that boy, knowin’ what we’re goin’ to do, without standin’ a chance of givin’ the whole snap away.”
“Leave it to me; I’ll attend to everything, and you shan’t see him again till the day we take him on shore.”
Mr. Stout went to his own room after this promise; but it is safe to say that his sleep was neither sweet nor refreshing.
Two hours later Ned was awakened by a heavy hand laid on his shoulder, and as he raised his head the captain’s voice was heard.
“I want you to shift rooms, lad. The carpenter is going to make some changes here, and you’ll lose the best part of the night’s rest if you try to stay.”
The words were spoken in the most friendly of tones, and Ned, wondering not a little why it was the master of the Evening Star had suddenly grown so kind, hastily dressed himself.
Captain Bragg stood in the doorway until he was ready, and then led him to the room adjoining the chief mate’s, saying as he opened the door: