Chapter 15

"_Sir And._. I have no exquisite reason for't, but I've reason
good enough."
_Twelfth Night._

The countenance of Captain Borroughcliffe, when the sentinel admitted
him to the apartment he had selected, was in that state of doubtful
illumination, when looks of peculiar cunning blend so nicely with the
stare of vacancy, that the human face is rendered not unlike an April
day, now smiling and inviting, and at the next moment clouded and
dreary. It was quite apparent that the soldier had an object for his
unexpected visit, by the importance of his air and the solemnity of the
manner with which he entered on the business. He waved his hand for the
sentinel to retire, with lofty dignity, and continued balancing his
body, during the closing of the door, and while a sound continued
audible to his confused faculties, with his eyes fixed in the direction
of the noise, with that certain sort of wise look that in many men
supplies the place of something better. When the captain felt himself
secure from interruption, he moved round with quick military precision,
in order to face the man of whom he was in quest. Griffith had been
sleeping, though uneasily and with watchfulness; and the Pilot had been
calmly awaiting the visit which it seemed he had anticipated; but their
associate, who was no other than Captain Manual, of the marines, was
discovered in a very different condition from either. Though the weather
was cool and the night tempestuous, he had thrown aside his pea-jacket,
with most of his disguise, and was sitting ruefully on his blanket,
wiping, with one hand, the large drops of sweat from his forehead, and
occasionally grasping his throat with the other, with a kind of
convulsed mechanical movement. He stared wildly at his visitor, though
his entrance produced no other alteration in these pursuits than a more
diligent application of his handkerchief and a more frequent grasping of
his naked neck, as if he were willing to ascertain, by actual
experiment, what degree of pressure the part was able to sustain,
without exceeding a given quantity of inconvenience.

"Comrade, I greet ye!" said Borroughcliffe, staggering to the side of
his prisoner, where he seated himself with an entire absence of
ceremony: "Comrade, I greet ye! Is the kingdom in danger, that gentlemen
traverse the island in the uniform of the regiment of incognitus,
incognitii, 'torum--damme, how I forget my Latin! Say, my fine fellow,
are you one of these 'torums?"

Manual breathed a little hard, which, considering the manner he had been
using his throat, was a thing to be expected; but, swallowing his
apprehensions, he answered with more spirit than his situation rendered
prudent or the occasion