“Have you not said that you thought Captain Jones had it?”
“But the Lascar said that you were to deliver it to the earl; and I think that that was why the landing was made.” The man paused a moment, then added with a great deal of eagerness in his voice, “Tell me, did you conceal it anywhere upon St. Mary’s Isle before you were taken?”
“I have told you that I know nothing of the dispatch save that Siki took it from the cabin of the Ranger.”
There was plain disbelief upon the face of the spy; but before he could make any reply, the door opened slightly, as though upon a chain, and a woman’s face appeared—a bony, fierce-looking countenance with a mop of unkempt hair above it.
“What is wanted at this hour?” she demanded harshly.
“It’s I, Meg,” replied Danvers; “I’ve brought some lodgers for you.”
The woman seemed to recognize the voice, for she at once threw the door wide, and stood before them. She was a huge, raw-boned creature, and looked as strong as a man; she was attired in a tattered gown, and a cloak was wound about her shoulders. Gazing sharply at the two prisoners, she burst into a grating chuckle.
“Yankees, eh,” she said, as though highly pleased. “But, no,” gazing at Longsword once more, “this one is Irish, even the scar does not hide that, though it covers the greater part of his face.”
“I’ll thank ye,” growled the dragoon, “not to indulge in any personal remarks, mam.”
The woman laughed gleefully, and wagged her head.