I thought for a moment, and, saying the words over slowly to myself, I concluded that the Skipper had volunteered the information that Cynthia had said "Hiram," and that he next had asked of me the question, "What have you got to tell me?"
I gasped with bliss, but I controlled my voice and drew the watch from my pocket.
"I found this," said I, "down there by the cave. I have noticed that yours doesn't go, and I thought perhaps you would like one that does."
"You're dreadful kind," said the Skipper in a pleased tone. He examined the watch, turning it over and round. "Where did you find it?" he asked.
"Why, I just picked it up," said I, which was literally true. And then remembering first that Cynthia had asked for me, and then that I had made a promise to the Bo's'n, I dashed into the passage, the Skipper following. When I reached the latticed chamber, I saw that young Trevelyan had changed his position enough to be lying on Cynthia's blanket, with his head on her pillow. He was very pale and coughed at times, which, however, did not seem to awaken him. Cynthia herself was seated upon a projecting rock, occupied in mending her Uncle's coat. The mortuary bag was gaping wide, and giving up, on demand, such necessaries as thread, needles, scissors, and the like.
"Oh, how do you do, Mr. Jones?" said Cynthia, nodding carelessly.
"What do you want of me?" asked I.
Cynthia looked up in innocent astonishment.
"I?" she said.