Chapter 33

“Don’t you take on, sir,” he said, shaking the squire’s hand. “All’s well with him; no fear for a hand that’s been shot down in his duty to captain and owner. It mayn’t be good divinity, but it’s a fact.” Then he pulled me aside. “Dr. Livesey,” he said, “in how many weeks do you and squire expect the consort?” I told him it was a question not of weeks but of months, that if we were not back by the end of August Blandly was to send to find us, but neither sooner nor later. “You can calculate for yourself,” I said. “…