"I must take chance of that," I said. Then I threw him heavily on the sward. Taking some cord from my pocket, with which I had provided myself before starting, I bound his hands securely behind him. Then I bound his legs.
"Wot be 'ee goin' to do weth me now?" he shrieked.
"Nothing more."
"But you bean't goin' to laive me lie 'ere oal night, be 'ee? Why, I sh'll die ov the cowld."
"No, you won't," I said; "as you mentioned, this is a lew place, and you are not one who will die so easily. You may be a bit cramped by the morning, and perhaps you may get a twinge of rheumatics, but that'll be all. Besides, it's far better for you to suffer a bit than that yon vessel shall be wrecked. Now I'll leave you to your sins; I'm off."
"Off where?"
"Off where you'll never see me again. You'll have company to-night, perhaps. It's said that Peter Crowle's ghost comes here on windy nights. I wish you pleasant company."
"Oh, doan't 'ee go," he screamed; "I'm 'fraid of sperrits, I be. Let me free, Squire, 'n I'll never tell where you'm gone; I'll zay you'm drowned, or tumbled ovver the cleffs or anything, onnly do cut the ropes, and lev me be free."
"No," I said; "while you are here Cap'n Jack will think the false lights are showing, and perhaps the vessel will be safe. As for the spirits, you are the strongest, bravest man in the gang, and, of course, you are not afraid of spirits."
"But you bean't agoin' to take th'oull mare?"