Flood dropped his hand from the man’s shoulder and took that of the speaker.
“I know that I can trust you, John,” said he slowly. “My only fear was that you might disclose the truth for my sake, should serious circumstances involve me.”
“Not I, sir, if you say not.”
“Understand me, John,” and Flood’s resonant voice grew strangely hard and grim. “I am now playing against a tough and hard game, the hardest a man ever has to face, and one that may bring me between life and death.”
“Good God, sir!”
“Nay, don’t start and grow pale. I know what I’m about and what I am saying. Mark well my words, and remember your vow. Under no circumstances, not even to save my neck from a hangman’s noose, are you by word or sign to betray my secret.”
The face of the humpback was the color of dead ashes, and its expression one never to be forgotten. Yet he again raised his hand and fervently answered:
“Never, sir, God hearing me!”
“If I ever wish the truth disclosed, I will inform you. Till then, let come what may, be silent—always silent!”
“Trust me, sir, my lips are sealed.”