"Oh, it's you!" said the prisoner, setting down the stone and letting himself sink back. "I was dreaming, I suppose, and thought there was danger." He laid his feverish cheek upon his hand, and seemed to fall asleep at once, his eyes closing and his breath coming easily. "Trusts me," muttered Bart. "Poor lad! it ar'n't his fault. Man can't kill one as trusts him like that. I shall have to fight for him, I suppose. Always my way--always my way." He seated himself at the foot of the couch with his features distorted as if by pain, and for hour after hour watched the sleeper, telling himself that he could not do him harm, though all the time a jealous hatred approaching fury was burning in his breast. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. THE PRISON LIFE. "Not dying, Bart?" "No, not exactly dying," said that worthy in a low growl; "but s'pose you shoots at and wings a gull, picks it up, and takes it, and puts it in a cage; the wound heals up, and the bird seems sound; but after a time it don't peck, and don't preen its plumes, and if it don't beat itself again' the bars o' the cage, it sits and looks at the sea." "What do you mean?" "What I says, captain; and, after a time, if you don't let it go, that gull dies." "Then you mean that Captain Armstrong is pining away?" "That's it." "Has he any suspicion of who we are?" "Not a bit." "And you think he's suffering for want of change?" "Course I do. Anyone would--shut up in that dark place." "Has he complyned?" "Not he. Too brave a lad. Why not give him and his lads a boat, and let them go!" "To come back with a strong force and destroy us." "Ah, I never thought of that! Make him swear he wouldn't. He'd keep his word." "But his men would not, Bart. No; he will have to stay." "Let him loose, then, to run about the place. He can't get away." "I am afraid." "What of?" "Some trouble arising. Mazzard does not like him." "Ah! I never thought o' that neither," returned Bart, gloomily. "Black Mazzard's always grumbling about his being kept." The buccaneer took a turn or two up and down the quarters he occupied in the vast range of buildings buried in the forest, a mile back from the head of the harbour where his schooner lay; and Bart watched him curiously till he stopped, with his face twitching, and the frown deepening upon his brow. "He will not give his word of honour not to attempt to escape, Bart," said the captain, pausing at last before his follower. "'Tar'n't likely," said Bart. "Who would? He'd get away if he could." "The prisoners cannot escape through the forest; there is no way but the sea, and that must be properly watched. Due notice must be given to all that any attempt to escape will be followed by the punishment of death." "I hear," said Bart. "Am I to tell the captain that?" "No. He must know it; but I give him into your charge. You must watch over him, and protect him from himself and from anyone else." "Black Mazzard!"