“I don't remember exactly,” faltered Wicks.
And at this remarkable falsehood, the suspicions of the doctor were at once quadrupled.
“By the way, which of you is called Wicks?” he asked easily.
“What's that?” snapped the captain, falling white as paper.
“Wicks,” repeated the doctor; “which of you is he? that's surely a plain question.”
Wicks stared upon his questioner in silence.
“Which is Brown, then?” pursued the doctor.
“What are you talking of? what do you mean by this?” cried Wicks, snatching his half-bandaged hand away, so that the blood sprinkled in the surgeon's face.
He did not trouble to remove it. Looking straight at his victim, he pursued his questions. “Why must Brown go the same way?” he asked.
Wicks fell trembling on a locker. “Carthew's told you,” he cried.