"
"Escape!" he said, opening his eyes in feigned astonishment. "'Tis
you who will not escape again!"
"You will release me," I said.
"In my own good time," he answered. "A hothead like you will
benefit by a period of quiet meditation."
"You will release me at once," I said. "You dare not keep me here.
There are those in Spanish Town and Port Royal who know where I
have come: they will seek me if I do not return to the ship within
the expected time, and then you will find a halter round your neck,
Cyrus Vetch."
"Not at all," he said with a bland smile. "A messenger will leave
here tomorrow with a letter saying that my old friend and
schoolfellow, Humphrey Bold, is sick with a fever. He will have
every attention, and a report of his condition shall be sent to his
captain--Captain Vincent, is it not? I fear Mr. Bold may not have
recovered before the fleet sails; it is likely that he may be very
ill indeed; 'tis possible he may die! And Captain Vincent shall
know how tenderly he was nursed--yes, by Mistress Lucy Cludde--"
"Don't name her name, you hound!" I cried hotly, stung at last into
fury.
"Gently, Mr. Bold," said he; "you will but aggravate your
distemper. Mistress Lucy Cludde will nurse you--in my letter; and
your captain will think it most natural and commendable seeing that
you are her guest, and that it may be regarded there is some slight
relationship between you. And if you should happily recover, why,
she may herself accompany you to port and restore you to your
comrades.
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