"The very same!" says I.

"Strange!" quoth Penfeather, and thereafter sat staring gloomily down into the rippling waters of the brook for a while. "I wonder?" says he at last. "I wonder?"

"What think ye shall bring these fellows so far from the coast--what should they be after?"

"Me, shipmate!"

"You!" says I for the second time, marvelling at the strange quiet of him. "And what would they have of you?"

"My life, shipmate, and one other thing. What that thing is I will tell you when we have drunk the blood-brotherhood! But now it behoveth me to be a-going, so I'll away. But when you shall seek me, as seek me ye will, shipmate, shalt hear of me at the Peck-o'-Malt tavern, which is a small, quiet place 'twixt here and Bedgebury Cross. Come there at any hour, day or night, and say 'The Faithful Friend,' and you shall find safe harbourage. Remember, comrade, the word is 'The Faithful Friend,' and if so be you can choose your time--night is better." So saying, he arose.

"Wait!" says I, pointing to the coins yet lying on the grass. "Take your money!"

"'Tis none o' mine," says he, shaking his head. "Keep it or throw it away--'tis all one to me!" Then he went away through the wood and, as he went, I thought he walked with a new and added caution.




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