“Yes,” she answered, trembling; “I will. I shall tell the Governor how you——”
He shook his head. “Not in that way, but now, now.”
“How can I help you now?” she asked wonder-ingly.
“Give me Mr. Clinton's pistols. Before daylight four others and myself mean to escape from the ship. The guard are all too sick to prevent us even if we are discovered. There is a boat towing astern, lowered with the intention of sending it ashore to seek assistance. Water and provisions are in it. But we have no firearms, and if we land on the coast may meet with savages.”
Without a word she put her husband's pistols in his hands, and then gave him all the ammunition she could find.
“Do not shed blood,” she began, when the convict clutched her arm. A sound as of some one moving came from the next cabin—the one occupied by Jacob Bolger—and a savage light came into Adair's eyes as he stood and listened.
“He would give the alarm in a moment if he knew,” he muttered.
“Yes,” she answered; “he hates you, and I am terrified even to meet his glance.”
But Mr. Jacob Bolger made no further noise; he had heard quite enough, and at that moment was lying back in his bunk with an exultant smile, waiting for Adair to leave the cabin.
Then the convict, still crouching on the floor, held out his hand.