"Ah! You there, Bob? What is it? Want more grog, or extra biscuits, or is it something you want for Mr. Scarron?"
Bob happened to see Luiga nearby, and knew that the West Indian was listening.
"Yes, cap'n," he answered, "the doctor sent me for some, and I didn't see you, so I wrote it down."
Tempest glanced over the paper, and saw at once that Bob was acting very diplomatically.
"Will you ask the doctor to see me about it? He had better come at once."
Luiga heard Tempest's remark and felt easier.
"Thought he had split. If he had I would have slit his throat for him before he was an hour older."
Tempest was alone.
"What does he mean?" he asked himself.
"'He made me swear.' Who did? 'Make my hair stand on end,' 'put prisoners in irons before night got dark'—really, Bob, your composition is an enigma. 'Bullets may be under the tin.' It is a conundrum hard to read."