‘There’s no use in talking,’ he exclaimed, smoothing down his voice a trifle; ‘the compact between ye was overheard. Me and the others here was to be got rid of at Rio. Then a crew of Kanakas was to be shipped off the Sandwich Islands. Then, with the gold aboard hidden out of sight, you and him was to ship fresh hands. Mad?’ he cried in an indescribably sneering way; ‘no, no, that worn’t do. Ye didn’t think him mad, then, when you made him provide that if the law laid hold of him for a-running away with his ship, you was to be guaranteed free o’ peril by what you or him tarmed a hinstrument. Ye didn’t think him mad then, and ye don’t think him mad now.’ ‘Wilkins,’ I exclaimed to the young fellow who sat at the corner end of the table, ‘you overheard that conversation, and your ears were sharp enough to gather in every syllable of it. Were they not sharp enough, my lad, to judge by the tone of my voice that I assented to the madman’s humour merely to induce him to make for the near port of Rio, that I and the lady might quickly get away from this vessel?’ The veal-faced fellow stirred uneasily to the many eyes which were turned upon him; but he answered nevertheless with resolution and emphasis: ‘You stipulated for tarms, specially for a share, and you spoke as if you was in airnest.’ ‘Mr. Lush,’ I cried, ‘I am a gentleman. Believe me, on my honour as one, when I swear to you that I accepted the captain’s story as a madman’s fabrication, and seemed to agree with him only that I might get away from his ship the sooner.’ ‘What was the dawcument you signed, sir?’ inquired one of the sailors. ‘Ah, that’s it,’ cried another; ‘let’s see the hinstrument, as Mr. Lush tarms it.’ I had them both in my pocket-book, intending to preserve them as curiosities and as illustrations of my adventure with Miss Temple. I could not refuse to produce them, nor would I stoop to a falsehood; but I was sensible as I drew out the pocket-book, intently watched by the seamen, that the mere circumstance of my carrying the papers about with me as though I deemed them too precious to be laid aside in a drawer, told heavily against the assurance I had made to the men. The carpenter picked the documents up. ‘Who can read here?’ said he, looking round. There was no reply. ‘Will you recite ’em, sir?’ he continued, turning his surly eyes upon me. ‘There’s Joe as can read,’ broke in a voice. ‘Ay, call Joe,’ exclaimed another man. This signified that I was not to be trusted. They might suppose I would invent instead of reading, and there was no man present able to spell a word to disprove what I chose to deliver. The lee lid of the skylight lay open. The carpenter roared through it for Joe Wetherly, who promptly stepped below. ‘What is it?’ he asked, looking round upon his mates. ‘Here, Joe,’ said the carpenter, ‘you’re the one scholard aboard us. Tarn to, will ‘ee, and let’s hear what’s wrote down upon these papers.’