"Why?" he asked, "what is the quid pro quo?"
"Nothing whatever, but past deeds. You forget the risk is mine. I put myself in your power, when I came here. A word from you, and I am undone."
"A word from the pirate, taken red-handed? Oh, no! But I will grant anything you ask, in reason and out. I may not cavil with the noose before my nose."
"Wait, then, until I ask it!" laughed Parkington. "How is your wounded shoulder."
"It is nothing—only a broken collar-bone. I have led many a boarding party with worse. It is these damn things that weigh me down," indicating the irons.
"You could swim to shore, if they were off?" queried Parkington.
"Easily. Besides, if I fail, I win anyway."
"And the key to the irons is in Jamison's pocket! Well, it shall be my business to abstract it. And, then, having got it to you, the rest depends upon yourself—aided by my prayers."
"If it is just the same to you, I would prefer you stopped with the key," said Brandon. "I doubt the efficacy of your prayers."
"So be it—I will leave the praying to you."