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"My back!" he screamed.
There was an unusual glint in Mr. Blood's eyes; his lips were
compressed. But when he parted them to speak, his voice came cool
and steady.
"Be easy, now. One thing at a time. Your back's taking no harm at
all for the present, since I've covered it up. I'm wanting to know
what's happened to you. D' ye think we can do without a navigator
that ye go and provoke that beast Bishop until he all but kills you?"
Pitt sat up and groaned again. But this time his anguish was mental
rather than physical.
"I don't think a navigator will be needed this time, Peter."
"What's that?" cried Mr. Blood.
Pitt explained the situation as briefly as he could, in a halting,
gasping speech. "I'm to rot here until I tell him the identity of
my visitor and his business."
Mr. Blood got up, growling in his throat. "Bad cess to the filthy
slaver!" said he. "But it must be contrived, nevertheless. To the
devil with Nuttall! Whether he gives surety for the boat or not,
whether he explains it or not, the boat remains, and we're going,
and you're coming with us.


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