“Captain Mason ought to know!” he cried. “The king’s wise men have told him the same thing. Choseph, Choseph! It would be horrible!”
“Why, lad? I can’t work in the dark.”
His look was appealing.
“I must know,” I said. “You are acting like a child, and this is work for men. Tell me what the storm and the earthquake have to do with us, or I’ll refuse to surrender a man to Gato, and we’ll fight.”
“Choseph!” he exclaimed, frightened; then, after a pause: “The people think the Black Face must have all the castaways, or it will shake the ground with earthquakes and maybe send a volcano to destroy everything. But if the earthquake is heavy, it terrifies the people. In that way you might escape if Lentala’s plan fails. It was a great earthquake I was hoping for.”
“The Black Face must have all the castaways?” I repeated. “How?”
“I don’t know!” he desperately cried. “Lentala doesn’t know. It has been concealed from us. But it’s something horrible! A storm is coming, but it may bring no castaways, and the king won’t wait any longer. He can’t control the people.”
“What kind of man should we send out, Beelo?”
“One who’s brave and fears nothing,” he promptly answered, studying me oddly.
“Then Rawley wouldn’t do.”