“You’re in charge now, partner; keep the boys hustling,” he said.  “There’s the coffee to load up when you have put the guns ashore.  Looks as if I had got to leave the job to you.”

He turned his head, drew a hard breath, as if it had hurt him to speak, and said nothing more.  The work, however, went on until it got dark, and when the mist rose from the mangroves and a heavy dew began to fall they carried Adam to his room.  He slept for part of the night while Kit watched, but now and then tossed about with delirious mutterings.  When morning came he did not wake and Kit, looking at his pinched, wet face, went on deck with a heavy heart.  He had sent for the Spanish doctor, but thought it did not matter much if Senor Martin came or not.  In another day or two he would be alone.

CHAPTER IX

ADAM’S LAST REQUEST

It was nearly full moon, the night was calm, and the flowing tide rippled among the mangrove roots.  Clammy vapor drifted about the ship and big drops fell from the rigging and splashed upon the deck.  A plume of smoke went nearly straight up from the funnel, and now and then the clang of furnace-slice and shovel rose from the stokehold, for Mayne hoped to float the vessel next tide.  For the most part, however, the men were asleep and it was very quiet in the room under the poop.  A lamp tilted at a sharp angle gave a feeble light that touched Adam’s face.  Kit sat on a locker opposite, looking anxious and worn.

“You loaded up some of the coffee,” Adam remarked in a strained voice.

“Half of it, I think; the rest’s on the beach,” said Kit.  “It’s doubtful if we’ll get the next lot, since Senor Martin understands the fighting has begun.”

“The lot you have shipped will be something to score against the account; it’s prime coffee and ought to sell well.  I’d like you to get the rubber, but Alvarez can’t wait long for the goods Mackellar has ready for the boat.  Another voyage and you can pull out for the old country.  I’d reckoned on going with you, but that’s done with.”

Kit said nothing.  The doctor had come and gone, for he was needed elsewhere and could not help the sick man.  One could indulge him and make things comfortable for a few days but that was all, he said, and Kit saw that Adam knew.  By and by the latter resumed: 

“I’ve been thinking about Peter and Ashness.  I’d have liked to see the old place and the fells again, and when I was half asleep I thought I heard the beck splash among the thorns and the pee-wits crying.  Well, you are going back, and you’ll marry that girl.  Though it will cost you something to see Alvarez through, you ought to be rich enough.”

“You mustn’t talk too much,” said Kit.  “Senor Martin told you to rest.”

Adam smiled.  “It doesn’t matter now if I rest or not.  My brain’s clearer and I’ll talk while I can.  I never told you much about my early life, but I’m going to do so, because there’s something I want to ask.”