"Did you happen to hear him ever speak of that mutiny on board the Australian ship Morning Star? You have heard of it, I daresay: a George Gordon was the ringleader."
If ever the cool impudence was suddenly taken out of a man, this question seemed to take it out of Pike. He did not reply for some time; and when he did, it was in low and humble tones.
"My lord, I hope you'll pardon my rough thoughts and ways, which haven't been used to such as you—and the sight of that boy put me up, for reasons of my own. As to Gorton—I never did hear him speak of the thing you mention. His name's Gorton, and nothing else, as far as I know; and his hair's his own, for all I ever saw."
"He did not give you his confidence, then?"
"No, never. Not about himself nor anything else, past or present."
"And did not let a word slip? As to—for instance, as to his having been a passenger on board the Morning Star at the time of the mutiny?"
Pike had moved away a step, and stood with his arms on the hurdles, his head bent on them, his face turned from Lord Hartledon.
"Gorton said nothing to me. As to that mutiny—I think I read something about it in the newspapers, but I forget what. I was just getting up from some weeks of rheumatic fever at the time; I'd caught it working in the fields; and news don't leave much impression in illness. Gorton never spoke of it to me. I never heard him say who or what he was; and I couldn't speak more truly if your lordship offered to give me the shed as a bribe."
"Do you know where Gorton might be found at present?"
"I swear before Heaven that I know nothing of the man, and have never heard of him since he went away," cried Pike, with a burst of either fear or passion. "He was a stranger to me when he came, and he was a stranger when he left. I found out the little game he had come about, and saved your lordship from his clutches, which he doesn't know to this day. I know nothing else about him at all."