I got near him after a while, and managed to whisper into his ear:
"I know you now. I detected you from the way you carry your head—you are Mat Morris."
Shadow's hand was resting on the table. Without even glancing up to see if I was looking, his index finger began forming letters on the table—letters, of course, that were invisible.
My eyes followed the finger carefully, and I read the words:
"Fool! Your folly may cost us both our lives. I am Shadow—nothing else. Do not seek to penetrate my disguise. Go."
I turned away rebuked.
If he wished to conceal his identity, it certainly was none of my business.
As I was turning about, a genuine tar—a regular son of Neptune—staggered against me. He was half seas over, and I tried to avoid him.
But he grasped me by the shoulder, gave me a shake, and—
"Come along and have some grog, you son of a sea-cook!"