“I see, I see,” he said, whilst his companion was still talking, explaining, and to save Dr. Whacker’s face he played the hypocrite.  “It is very noble in you — very brotherly, as between men of medicine.  It is what I myself should wish to do in like case.”

The hard eyes flashed, the husky voice grew tremulous as the other asked almost too eagerly: 

“You agree, then?  You agree?”

“Agree?” Blood laughed.  “If I should be caught and brought back, they’d clip my wings and brand me for life.”

“Surely the thing is worth a little risk?” More tremulous than ever was the tempter’s voice.

“Surely,” Blood agreed.  “But it asks more than courage.  It asks money.  A sloop might be bought for twenty pounds, perhaps.”

“It shall be forthcoming.  It shall be a loan, which you shall repay us — repay me, when you can.”

That betraying “us” so hastily retrieved completed Blood’s understanding.  The other doctor was also in the business.

They were approaching the peopled part of the mole.  Quickly, but eloquently, Blood expressed his thanks, where he knew that no thanks were due.

“We will talk of this again, sir — to-morrow,” he concluded.  “You have opened for me the gates of hope.”

In that at least he tittered no more than the bare truth, and expressed it very baldly.  It was, indeed, as if a door had been suddenly flung open to the sunlight for escape from a dark prison in which a man had thought to spend his life.

He was in haste now to be alone, to straighten out his agitated mind and plan coherently what was to be done.  Also he must consult another.  Already he had hit upon that other.  For such a voyage a navigator would be necessary, and a navigator was ready to his hand in Jeremy Pitt.  The first thing was to take counsel with the young shipmaster, who must be associated with him in this business if it were to be undertaken.  All that day his mind was in turmoil with this new hope, and he was sick with impatience for night and a chance to discuss the matter with his chosen partner.  As a result Blood was betimes that evening in the spacious stockade that enclosed the huts of the slaves together with the big white house of the overseer, and he found an opportunity of a few words with Pitt, unobserved by the others.

“To-night when all are asleep, come to my cabin.  I have something to say to you.”

The young man stared at him, roused by Blood’s pregnant tone out of the mental lethargy into which he had of late been lapsing as a result of the dehumanizing life he lived.  Then he nodded understanding and assent, and they moved apart.