Further conversation between the friends was interrupted at this point by the inrushing of Toozle, followed up by Poopy, and a short time after, by Mr. Mason, who took Alice away with him, and left poor Corrie disconsolate.

While this was going on, John Bumpus was fulfilling his mission to Ole Thorwald.

He found that obstinate individual in his own parlor, deep in the investigation of the state of his books of business, which had been allowed to fall into arrears during his absence.

“Come in, Bumpus.  So I hear you were half-hanged when we were away.”

Ole wheeled round on his stool, and hooked his thumbs into the armholes of his vest, as he said this, leaned his back against his desk, and regarded the seaman with a facetious look.

“Half-hanged, indeed!” said Bumpus, indignantly.  “I was more than half—­three-quarters, at least.  Why, the worst of it’s over w’en the rope’s round your neck.”

“That is a matter which you can’t speak to, John Bumpus, seeing that you’ve never gone beyond the putting of the rope round your neck.”

“Well, I’m content with wot I does happen to know about it,” remarked Jo, making a wry face; “an’ I hope that I’ll never git the chance of knowin’ more.  But I comed here on business, Mr. Thorwald” (here John became mysterious, and put his finger to his lips.) “I’ve comed here, Mr. Thorwald, to—­split.”

As Ole did not quite understand the meaning of this word, and did not believe that the seaman actually meant to rend himself from head to foot, he said, “Why, Bumpus! what d’ye mean?”

“I mean as how that I’ve comed to split on my comrades; w’ich means, I’m goin’ to tell upon ’em.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Ole, eying the man with a look of distrust.

“Yes,” pursued Bumpus; “I’m willin’ to tell ye all about it, and prevent his escape, if you’ll only promise, on your word as a gin’lmun, that ye won’t tell nobody else but six niggers, who are more than enough to sarve your turn.”

“Prevent whose escape?” said Thorwald, with an excited look.

“Gascoyne’s.”

Ole jumped off his stool, and hit his left palm a sounding blow with his right fist.

“I knew it!” he exclaimed, staring into the face of the seaman.  “I was sure of it!  I said it!  But how d’ye know, my man?”

“Ah!  I’ll not say another word if ye don’t promise to let me go free, and only take six niggers with ye.”

“Well, Bumpus, I do promise, on the word of a true Norseman, which is much better than that of a gentleman, that no harm shall come to you if you tell me all you know of this matter.  But I will promise nothing more; because if you won’t tell me, you have told me enough to enable me to take such measures as will prevent Gascoyne from escaping.”