‘It’s to come,’ said he in a raven note; ‘ye shall be interested afore long. Take the oath, sir,’ he added with a dark look.
‘But what oath, man, what oath is it that I am to take?’
‘That as the Lord is now a-listening to ye, you will never divulge to mortal creature the secret I’m agoing to tell ye, so help you God: and if you break your oath, may ye be struck dead at the moment of it, and your soul chased to the very gates of hell. So help ye God, again!’
I looked at him with astonishment and fear. No pen could express his manner as he pronounced these words—the dull fire that entered his eyes and seemed to enlarge them yet, the solemn note his deep and trembling, yet distinctly clear voice took—his mien of command that had the force of a menace in it as he stood upreared before me, his nostrils wide, his face a dingy sallow, one arm thrusting the little volume at me, the other hanging at his side with the fingers clenched.
‘I dare not take that oath,’ said I, after a little spell of thinking, with every nerve in me tight-strung, so to speak, in readiness to defend myself should he attack me. ‘Miss Temple will certainly inquire what our talk has been about; I will not undertake to be silent to her, sir. Keep your secret. It is not too late. Your narrative is one of shipwreck, and so far there is nothing in it to betray.’
With that I rose.
‘Stop!’ he exclaimed; ‘you may tell the lady. There need be no objection. I see how it lies betwixt you and her, and I’m not so onreasonable as to reckon she’ll never be able to coax it out of ye. No. Your interests’ll be hers, and of course she goes along with us. ’Tis my crew I’m thinking of.’
I was horribly puzzled. At the same time curiosity was growing in me; and with the swiftness of thought I reflected that whether I had his secret or not it would be all the same; he was most assuredly a madman in this direction, anyhow, if not in others; and it could be nothing more than some insane fancy which he had it in his head to impart, and which might be worth hearing if only for the sake of recalling it as an incident of this adventure when Miss Temple and I should have got away from the barque.
‘Mr. Dugdale, you will swear, sir,’ he exclaimed.
‘Very well,’ said I; ‘but put it a little more mildly, please. Leave out the gates of hell, for instance; or see—suffer me to swear in my own way. Give me that book.’