“I don’t understand, captain.” “I am on my way to old Sir Richard Warbeck’s house.” “What for?” “You would never guess.” “Perhaps not; what for, then?” “To arrest young Ned Warbeck on the charge of murder.” “You don’t mean that!” “I do though; he is innocent of the charge it is true, Ben, but still he must suffer for old Bertram’s murder.” “Why, you have arrested two on the charge before.” “True; but old Redgill’s clerk, Mr. Bolton, is innocent. He is out of prison, and Phillip Redgill has broken jail.” “Broken jail! it’s the first I have heard about it.” “That may be; but it is true for all that. I have been in the hands of Death-wing and his band all night, and have sworn on my life to have Ned Warbeck hung, in order to save myself; for old Gingles you spoke of turned out to be no other than Death-wing. I lost all my money at cards, and was afterwards entrapped into their den, and swore a solemn oath, to do this, or would have been killed on the spot.” “But you will not keep your promise now that you are free.” “I must.” “Remember your oath,” said a distant voice. CHAPTER XXXVIII. IN WHICH CAPTAIN JACK FINDS ENEMIES AMONG HIS OWN MEN—THE TABLES ARE TURNED. It was now very plain, from the progress of our story, that Colonel Blood had fully got Captain Jack and his gang under his thumb, and that their very lives depended on his will and pleasure. It was also known that he was a great favourite of the king, and that whatever he might say or do was law. Old Tom Bates—he with the long nose, off which Colonel Blood had not long ago knocked a large pimple—was in exceeding great wrath, and secretly vowed vengeance against Colonel Blood. If the truth must be told, old Bates had not long before that had a long conference with Captain Jack about this Colonel Know-all, as Bates termed him. He and Captain Jack met by accident, one evening, and entering a wine-shop, began to drink very heavily. “I tell yer what it is, captain,” said old Bates, tossing off a bumper and winking very cunningly, “I’ll tell yer what it is, captain.” “Well, what _is_ it?” said Captain Jack, adjusting the black patch over his eye, and winking with the other. “Well, what I means to say, is this ’ere, Captain Jack. If things in our line don’t get a little brisker than they has been o’ late, why, I shall leave the Dozen and start on my own individual account.” “Leave the Dozen, Bates?” “Aye, why not?” “But you can’t.” “Aye, but I will, I tell yer, and you nor none on ’em can stop me. What’s the good o’ having a captain at the head on us who don’t do something in the way o’ trade? Why, since that affair of old Bertram’s murder, we’ve had nothing at all to do, and you must recollect, captain, that a man of my mettle can’t stand that sort o’ game any longer. Give me plenty o’ money and little work; that’s my style.” “Well, I’m listening,” said Captain Jack, laughing; “go on, I’m all attention.”