“Do not press me.”
“I stake my friendship on your acceptance,” said the officer with some determination. “He who refuses the good offices of a friend when he requires them, especially in a case of life and death, can have no proper feeling for him who proffers them, and he is, to boot—a fool. Good night, Emmanuel,” continued the officer, getting up, somewhat angry, “I give you until to-morrow to think of what I have offered.—Good night.”
The officer went out of the cabin, and Appadocca was left by himself.
CHAPTER XIV.
—“I’ll serve his mind with my best will.”
Timon of Athens.
A short time after the capture of Emmanuel Appadocca, there might be observed a narrow canoe, with a single individual in it, far out at sea, apparently going still farther out,—for it was lustily paddled against the long sweeping waves that seemed at every moment to be about to bury the frail bark under their heavy volumes.
The trade wind, which still blew, seemed to impede the progress of the canoe, and it was evident that the solitary person, who sat in its stern, found it necessary to exert all his strength in order to make any headway.