villainy and, what is more to the purpose, he has a design upon you."
"He has done us no harm that I can see."
"He has done us a great deal of harm; he is persuading you to trust yourself to him, and he is worthy of no trust whatever, d—n him."
Now this from Jack was rather startling; for he was not in the least prone to use bad language. I never heard "the Englishman's prayer" from his lips before or since. But his earnestness irritated me more than his profanity surprised me.
"Don't you see," I said rather sullenly, "that if your hypothesis is correct your prayer is rather superfluous?"
"Well, yes, it is superfluous," he said with a harsh laugh quite unlike him; "he is damned already sure enough."
"I don't see much sign of damnation about him," I said, "not if misery be an essential park of damnation."
"Well, yes, the misery that comes of malice, and if ever malice and misery were written in a man's face, they were written in his yesterday when they missed those men. And mark me," Jack added, raising his voice, "his damnation has got something to do with the loss of those men."
