Twice, while I leaned across and stared at it, Captain Coffin's
fingers all but closed over the parchment to hide it from me.
The afternoon light was falling dim, and I stood up to walk around
the edge of the table for a better look. As I pushed back my chair
he clutched his treasure away, and hid it away again in the breast of
his jumper, at the same moment falling back and passing a hand over
his damp forehead.
"No, no, Brooks! You mustn't think--Only you took me sudden.
But my promise I've passed, and my promise I'll stand by.
Come to-morrow, lad."
Outside in the back yard I could hear Mr. Goodfellow, the slave of
love, sawing for dear life and Martha.
CHAPTER VII.
ENTER THE RETURNED PRISONER.
Strange to say, although I paid six or eight visits after this to
Captain Coffin, and by invitation, and watched his whaleboat
building, and ate more of his delectable guava-jelly, I saw nothing
more of the chart for several months.
On each occasion he treated me kindly, and made no secret of his
having chosen me for his favourite and particular friend; but
somehow, without any words, he contrived to set up an understanding
that further talk about the chart and the treasure must wait until
the boat should be ready for launching.
Pages:
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64