“Who are you?” demanded the man again. Then, with an oath, he repeated the question, adding: “What place is this? This ain't the fo'castle. Where am I?”
“You're ashore. You've been sick. Don't try to move.”
“Sick? Humph! Sick? 'Course I been sick. Don't I know it? The d—n cowards run off and left me; blast their eyes! I'll fix 'em for it one of these days, you hear—”
“Sshh!”
“Hush up yourself. Where am I?”
“You're ashore. On Cape Cod. At Trumet.”
“Trumet! TRUMET!”
He was struggling to raise himself on his elbow. Ellery was obliged to use force to hold him down.
“Hush! hush!” pleaded the minister, “you mustn't try to—”
“Trumet! I ain't. You're lyin'. Trumet! Good God! Who brought me here? Did she—Is she—”