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Updated: June 21, 2025
There had been a night when it was Spurling's turn to keep guard, and he had slept. Granger had wakened with a nervous sense of peril. Through the open door of the hut he had seen the silver of the moonlight in the tree-tops across the river and had seen the outline of his companion stretched along the ground. As he watched, he had seen a shadow fall across the threshold, followed by a head.
Beorn, when he had recovered from his debauch, was as silent, absorbed, and uncompanionable as ever. He appeared to have retained no memory of what he had said, and to be quite unconscious of Spurling's arrival he had become again in all things the Man with the Dead Soul. But with Peggy and Eyelids it was different.
And there had been a time when, if anyone had dared to tell him that that could ever happen, he would have denied it with an oath. Could it be that the fault was his own, and that he had misjudged this man? He recalled how, when he had discovered Strangeways' body at the bend, and had thought it Spurling's, he had bitterly accused himself of all manner of unkindness.
Then he was treated to a surprise. Several feet of line jerked through his hands. The fish had come to life again! Percy closed his grip on the strands, but soon let them slip to avoid being pulled overboard. He started to make the line fast, but remembered Spurling's caution against the danger of tearing the dart out of his prey. So he tossed the barrel over again and began rowing after it.
"They are after you boil 'em." Spurling's hand went into the trap again. This time the result was not so satisfactory. Out came a little fellow, full of fight. Jim tested his length by pressing his back between the turned-up ends of a brass measure screwed against the side of the standing-room. "Thought so! He's a 'short'!" He tossed the lobster overboard.
Then his thoughts turned to Strangeways. He wondered, had he lied or told the truth when he asserted that the body was not Mordaunt's which was found at Forty-Mile? He hoped for the best, but he doubted. His manner had been against it, and so had Spurling's; they had both been keeping something back.
The brief monosyllable struck Percy with dismay. If Spurling's strength should give out, what would happen to the dory? "Don't you want me to row awhile?" "You can take her for a few minutes." Scrambling forward, Percy grasped the oars and took Jim's place on the thwart. The latter lay down flat on his back in the bottom of the dory. Apparently he was not far from complete exhaustion.
Until he should recover, despite his own weakness, Granger knew that he was physically the stronger and still had the upper hand. For Peggy's sake he intended to make the best use of his time; he began to have fears for her as to what might happen were she left to the mercy of Spurling's choice.
"Where's Peggy?" were the first words he uttered. "She's gone away," Granger said. Then, seeing her brother's genuine concern, he commenced to explain a little of what had taken place in his absence. He was recounting his discovery of Spurling's flight, when his listener, taking it for granted that he already knew the rest, broke in impatiently, with "You damn fool! Why'd you kill him?"
My throat's worth just as much to me as yours is to you, and I don't feel I'd be running any great risk by inviting that boy to come along with us." Lane and Stevens agreed. "It's three against one, Whittington," said Jim. He walked over to the Italian and said a few words to him. The lad's face lighted up with gratitude. Impulsively he bent and kissed Spurling's hand.
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