"But where he is gone I can't tell. He did intend to have started for Kingston to-day at one time, but last night he said he would put it off until to-morrow."
"There again," said I, looking at Jacob, who seemed to think it was his cue.
"He must be a bit of a rogue that same Wilson; so I hope he is no friend of yours, Turner, my dear fellow," quoth Twig—and here he told him of all that had occurred, and what we suspected.
Mr Turner, a most respectable man, was highly incensed at having been so grossly duped, and willingly accompanied us to the place where we expected to find the custos.
We were on our way, when the mate of the timber ship overtook us, running very fast.
"Gentlemen, piracy is not the worst of it—piracy is not the worst of it. There has been murder committed."
"Murder!" quoth Jacob Twig—"the deuce there has!"
"Murder!" quoth Don Felix—"worse, and more of it."
And, "murder!" quoth I Benjie. "Where, my good man?—and what proof?"
"Come with me, gentlemen," said the still breathless seaman. "The ship's boat, with Captain Batten himself in it, is lying at the wharf. Come with me, and you shall see yourselves that it is as I say."