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II

           

           “YoumustmaroonmeassoonaseveryoucangetamongsttheseislandsofftheCambodgeshore,”hewenton.

           “Maroonyou!Wearenotlivinginaboy’sadventuretale,”Iprotested.Hisscornfulwhisperingtookmeup.

           “Wearen’tindeed!There’snothingofaboy’staleinthis.Butthere’snothingelseforit.Iwantnomore.Youdon’tsupposeIamafraidofwhatcanbedonetome?Prisonorgallowsorwhatevertheymayplease.Butyoudon’tseemecomingbacktoexplainsuchthingstoanoldfellowinawigandtwelverespectabletradesmen,doyou?WhatcantheyknowwhetherIamguiltyornot—orofwhatIamguilty,either?That’smyaffair.WhatdoestheBiblesay?‘Drivenoffthefaceoftheearth.’Verywell,Iamoffthefaceoftheearthnow.AsIcameatnightsoIshallgo.”

           “Impossible!”Imurmured.“Youcan’t.”

           “Can’t?...NotnakedlikeasoulontheDayofJudgment.Ishallfreezeontothissleepingsuit.TheLastDayisnotyet—and...youhaveunderstoodthoroughly.Didn’tyou?”

           Ifeltsuddenlyashamedofmyself.ImaysaytrulythatIunderstood—andmyhesitationinlettingthatmanswimawayfrommyship’ssidehadbeenamereshamsentiment,asortofcowardice.

           “Itcan’tbedonenowtillnextnight,”Ibreathedout.“Theshipisontheoff-shoretackandthewindmayfailus.”

           “AslongasIknowthatyouunderstand,”hewhispered.“Butofcourseyoudo.It’sagreatsatisfactiontohavegotsomebodytounderstand.Youseemtohavebeenthereonpurpose.

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