The vague eyes blinked with a more definite consciousness than heretofore. “I heard them plotting.”
“And will not inform us on your oath. Then you jeopard your own safety, Master Dare. Silence now is culpable, treasonable.”
“Oh no, no—what a mad boat—rolling about so—I, treasonable; how strange! Then I’ll swear, an you will, ’twas the pilot.”
“You’ll swear?”
“Most certainly, I’ll swear.”
“Where are the twenty men? Do you know that?”
“Nay, how should I know?”
“Did you not overhear the pilot give directions? Think you they are in the forecastle?”
“No, not there—not by any means there.”
“In the hold, then, hiding?”