Job, who had remained on deck, drew aside with the captain, and, after a few minutes' rapid conversation with him, returned to where Leicester lay.
"I am going, Maester Leicester," he said, gravely, and almost sadly. "I be sorry to leave ye like this, but ye wouldn't come to terms and there was naught else to do. I'd advise ye to give in like a wise gentleman; no harm'll come to yer if yer keeps quiet. Good-by, Maester Leicester. I be sorry, mortal sorry, and I'd give a sight of money if it was any one else as we'd had to play the trick on."
So saying, he turned and dropped over into the boat, which instantly rowed away.
Immediately afterward the order was given to crowd all canvas and put the ship about.
While it was being executed the captain of the motley crew strode up to Leicester and unbound his hands and removed the gag.
"Stranger," he said, with that nasal twang which proclaimed the Yankee, "I guess we'd better understand each other. I'm captain of this yere vessel, and what I say I mean; and no gentleman, whether he's an etarnal Britisher or a free man born under the Stars and Stripes can mean more. You've been consigned to my charge under peculiar circumstances. I'm to take care of you, keep yer safe and sound, and drop you soft as a kitten at a sartain place. Them's my instructions, and them's my intentions."
"I will offer no resistance to this villainous oppression," said Leicester, "on the condition that I am not kept in confinement and am allowed to mingle with and assist your crew."
"That's fair," he said. "And I agree, with this yere stipulation, that you comes no nonsense with my men, none of yer pitching yarns or tempting to a mutiny."
Leicester smiled bitterly as he glanced at the villainous countenance of the crew.
Leicester took off his coat, waistcoat, boots and stockings and quietly joined the crew at their task of setting the sails.
It was his wisest course of action, for had he been left idle and fettered with nothing to do but to think and dwell upon his position he must have gone mad.
It is a beautiful spring morning, and the London season is, like the time of year, just at its greenest and most verdant state.
This afternoon the Lady's Mile in the park is tolerably full, and the loungers against the railings especially numerous.