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"I thought as much," said Humphrey, half aloud; and he was about to speak again when Bart entered suddenly, looked sharply round, and showed the wisdom of his new visitor by going straight to the window and looking out.

"Who were you talking to?" he said, gruffly, as he came back, still looking suspiciously round.

"To myself," said Humphrey, quite truthfully, for his last remark had been so addressed.

Bart uttered a grunt, and glanced at the dinner.

"Done?" he said.

"No. Surely I may spend as long as I like over my meals here."

Bart nodded and went out, the heavy curtain falling behind him; while Humphrey slowly rose and went back to the stone altar, where he filled a silver cup from the flask and drank, and then began humming an air.

After this he walked to the curtain and peered cautiously through into the dark corridor, to see the heavy figure of the buccaneer's henchman go slowly along past the patches of dull green light streaming through the openings which occurred some thirty feet apart.

"Gone!" said Humphrey, returning quickly. "Are you there?"

"Yes. I could hear everything."

"Listen!" said Humphrey, quickly. "You are Mistress Greenheys?"

"Yes."

"And you love Dennis Kelly?"

There was silence.

"You need not fear me. I know your history," continued Humphrey. "You are, like myself, a prisoner and in the power of that black-looking lieutenant."

There was a piteous sigh here, and then came with a sob--

"I am a miserable slave, sir."

"Yes, yes, I know. Then look here, can we not all escape together?"

"Escape, sir! How?"

"Through Dinny's help."

"He would not give it, sir. It would be impossible. I--I--there! I will speak out, sir--I can bear this horrible life no longer! I have asked him to take me away."

"Well, will he not?"

"He is afraid, sir."

"And yet he loves you?"

"He says so."

"And you believe it, or you would not run risks by coming here?"

"Risks!" said the woman, with a sigh. "If Mazzard knew I came here he would kill me!"

"The wretch!" muttered Humphrey. Then aloud, "Dinny must help us.

Woman, surely you can win him to our side! You will try!"

"Try, sir! I will do anything!"

"Work upon his feelings, and I will try and do the same."

"He fears the risk of the escape, and also what may happen to him when he gets back to England. He has been a buccaneer, and, he tells me, a soldier. He will be charged with desertion."

"I will answer for his safety," said Humphrey, hastily. And then running to the curtain he made sure that Bart was not listening.

"Be cautious," he said, as he went back and began to pace up and down, with his eyes fixed upon the ground. "Tell me, could we get a boat?"

"I don't know, sir; I think so. Would it not be better to take to the forest?"

"That we must consider. First of all, Dinny must be won over."

"I will try."

"How could I communicate with you?"

"You could not, sir. I came to-day to warn Dinny to be cautious, for Mazzard suspects something. He has gone to the men's place, or I could not be here."

"But you can come sometimes and speak to me. You will be able to know whether anyone is here."

"If I can come, sir," said the woman; "but it is very difficult. The Commodore is always about; nothing escapes him."

"A scoundrel!"

"I don't think he is such a very bad man," said the woman.

"Indeed! Ah, women always find an excuse for a good-looking scoundrel!"

"I don't think a man who is faithful to the woman he loved can be very bad," said the voice, softly.

"Faithful! why, I suppose he has a dozen wives here?"

"He! Oh, no! I don't know, sir, exactly, but I have seen him go to the old chamber in one of these ruinous places, and he goes there to pray by the side of a coffin."

"What!" cried Humphrey.

"Yes, a coffin; and it contains the body of the woman he loved, or else of his sister. No one here knows but Dinny and Bart, and--"

"Hist!" whispered Humphrey, catching up a bunch of grapes and beginning to eat them.

He had heard the distant step of his guardian, and then there was silence, for Bart seemed to creep up and listen before entering, which he did at last, to find the prisoner muttering to himself and eating the grapes.

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