Then his thoughts flew to Picton. It would never do to let him know to-night; he must be prepared for the shock. Where to conceal Hector? For the present, at any rate, he would put him in his cabin. The hands on board--could they be trusted? Some story would have to be concocted. There was a man near and Ben called him. "Help me to carry him into my cabin," said Ben. The sailor obeyed without a word. He was an elderly man; he had served with Captain Bruce on the _Tiger_. "Say nothing of this until I give you permission," said Ben. "Right, sir," said Abe Glovey. "Abe, you are much attached to Woodridge and myself?" "I am, sir." "Can you persuade every man on board to keep this man's presence here a secret? It's very important." "It shall be done, sir. They are all good men and true." "Mr. Woodridge will reward them handsomely if nothing transpires ashore." Hector lay on Captain Ben's bunk, and they stood looking at him. Ben took a sudden resolution. "Abe, I will confide in you, tell you a secret, which if disclosed means ruin to us all, and a living death to him." "I think I understand, sir." "You guess who he is?" "I know, sir. A terrible change has come over him, and no wonder, but I can recognize him, for I knew him and loved him in the old days. There's not one in a thousand would know him, but I do--it's Hector, sir, is it not?" "Yes, it's Hector Woodridge, or what's left of him. He's in a bad way, Abe." "He is, sir." "And we can't have a doctor to him." "No, sir, but we'll pull him through. Every man of us will help. Give me permission to tell them. They'll stand by him and Mr. Picton; you need have no fear of that, sir." "Trust them all; yes, that will be the best," said Ben. "I'm sure you're right, sir; quite sure." Captain Ben gave orders for the _Sea-mew_ to leave Torbay, and she was soon moving slowly toward the sea. He sat beside Hector and listened to his moaning and muttering. He saw the wasted form, the haggard, drawn face, the gray hair, then he noticed the hands and shuddered. What an awful chase that must have been across the moor, bloodhounds on his track, every man's hand against him, no hope, no place to hide in. Yet there must have been one man whose compassion had been aroused on the moor, the man who clothed Hector, when he found him almost naked. Ben vowed when he knew that man's name he should receive his due reward. And there was another man, Brack, honest rough old Brack, with a heart of gold, and the courage of a bulldog. Ben felt it was good to be a sailor and be one of such a class.