Cynthia jumped back with a little squeal.
"Come, no more of this nonsense!" said I.
"Get out!" said the Bo's'n.
"I don't like to have you speak so to me, Bo's'n," said I. "It isn't pleasant, and it isn't respectful."
"You'll find it a damned sight more disrespectful, sir, before I've done with you, Mr. Jones, sir," answered the Bo's'n.
"What is it, Bo's'n? Do tell me."
By this time the Bo's'n had his arms held tightly round his stomach, as if the pain was too great to bear. I walked across the floor of the cave and stretched out my hand to him, speaking in a soothing voice, and begging him to let me do something to make him easier.
"Don't come near me, Mr. Jones, sir," said the man. "I am afraid of what I shall do to you. I knew—I knew it! When you threw that—that—you know—in the water——"
"If there has been mischief done, Bo's'n, let me repair it," said I.
"Can you raise the dead?" asked the Bo's'n in tones sepulchral.