"Yes, and my friend. I like him for the sake of his old generous ways, and I like him for his present manliness." "You--like him?" "Yes. It is not impossible, is it, that I should like to have a friend?" "Friend?" "Yes!" said the captain, sternly; "another friend! Don't stare, man, and think of the past. Mary Dell died, and lies yonder in the old temple, covered by the Union Jack, and Abel Dell still lives--Commodore Junk, seeking to take vengeance upon those who cut that young life short." "Look here!" said Bart, who gasped as he listened to his companion's wild utterances; "are you going mad?" "No, Bart, I am as sane as you." "But you said--" "What I chose to say, man. Let me believe all that if I like. Do you suppose I do not want some shield against the stings of my own thoughts? I choose to think all that, and it shall be so. You shall think it too. I am Commodore Junk, and if I wish this man to be my friend, and he consents, it shall be so!" "And suppose some day natur says, `I'm stronger than you, and I'll have my way,' what then?" "I'll prove to nature, Bart, that she lies, for she shall not have her way. If at any time I feel myself the weaker, there are my pistols; there is the sea; there is the great tank with its black waters deep down below the temple." "And you are going there--to him!" "I am going there to him. Can you not trust me, Bart?" The poor fellow made a weary gesture with his hands, and then, as the captain drew himself up, looking supremely handsome in his picturesque garb, and with his face flushed and brightened eyes, Bart followed him towards Humphrey's prison, walking at a distance, and with something of the manner of a faithful watch-dog who had been beaten heavily, but who had his duties to fulfil, and would do them till he died. CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. ANOTHER DUEL. "Is that his step? No; its that miserable gaoler's," said Humphrey, as he lay back on his soft skin-covered couch with his arms beneath his head in a careless, indolent attitude. Humphrey was beginning to feel the thrill of returning strength in his veins, and it brought with it his old independence of spirit and the memory that he had been trained to rule. His little episode with Bart that morning had roused him a little, and prepared him for his encounter with the buccaneer captain, upon whom he felt he was about to confer a favour.