"Aye," quoth I heartily, "come in, God-be-here Jenkins that was my friend." At this in he comes unwillingly enough and with never so much as a glance in my direction.
"Here's the wittles, Cap'n," says he, and setting down the food and drink he had brought, turned away.
"What, Godby, ha' ye no word for a poor murderer in his abasement?" says I. Whereat he shakes his head mighty gloomy and keeping his gaze averted. As for Adam he stood pinching his chin the while his quick, bright eyes darted from one to other of us.
"How, are ye going and never a word?" quoth I as Godby crossed to the door.
"Aye, I am!" says he, with gaze still averted.
"Why you left me in mighty hurry last time, Godby," "Aye, I did!" says he.
"Why then tell us wherefore--speak out, man."
"Not I, Martin, not I!" says he, and touching his bonnet to Penfeather hasted away.
"Ha!" says Adam, closing and locking the door. "And what's the riddle, Martin?"
"My doublet. Godby, chancing to take it up, finds it all a-smear with blood and incontinent suspects me for this black murderer, which comes hard since here's an end of Godby's faith and my friendship."
"Why look now, Martin, his suspicions are in reason seeing that what with drugs, deviltries and what not, you've been mighty strange o' late and more unlovely company than usual, d'ye see!"
"Howbeit!" says I, scowling and reaching for the food, "Here's an end to my friendship for Godby. Now as to you--what d'you say?"
"I think, shipmate, that your doublet bloody and you the grimly, desperate, gallowsy, hell-fire rogue you strive so hard to appear, Martin, I say here's enough to hang you ten times over. One thing is sure, you must leave this ship."
"Not I, Adam!"
"The long-boat's astern, victualled and ready."
"No matter!" says I.
"'Twill be no hard matter to get you safe away, Martin."
"Howbeit, I stay here!" says I, mighty determined. "I'm no murderer!"
"But you're a man to hang and hanged you'll be and you can lay to that, d'ye see?"
"So be it!" says I.
"Very fine, shipmate, but as I was saying the long-boat is towing astern, a good boat and well stored. The moon will be down in an hour--"
"And what of it?" I demanded.
"'Twill be easy for you to slip down from the stern gallery."
"Never in the world!" quoth I.
"And as luck will have it, Martin, Bartlemy's Island--our island--lieth scarce eighty miles south-westerly. Being thither you shall come on our treasure by the aid of the chart I shall give you, and leaving the gold, take only the four coffers of jewels--"