“Who are you all?” he asked. “Where is Roake? Where is the captain? Where—let me see—oh, yes, I remember—we were attacked, and must have been beaten. For you are all strangers. Tell me about it, somebody!”
“Your ship and the whole crew have been captured by the United States revenue-cutter Porter,” said Mr. Stark. “I am sorry you are so badly hurt, Snags, and I want to have a little talk with you before—before it is too late.”
“Before it is too late! What do you mean?”
“Can you not guess? You are seriously wounded, and the surgeon says——”
“That I must die? Don’t tell me that! I won’t die! I can’t die! I am not ready for that.”
He raised himself up on his elbow, and spoke in a tone of alarm and anguish.
“Ready or not, Snags, it may be inevitable.”
“No, no! I have too many sins to answer for.”
“Ay,” said Mr. Stark, “and now is the time for you to make what reparation lies in your power. Would you hesitate, in your last moments, to do this?”
“No. Tell me what it is. What can I do? Oh, there is one awful thing that weighs on my mind!”