f dressing," said Robert. "I've had much experience in the wilderness
with wounds."

"You're a good lad, Peter," said the slaver. "I've told you that before,
but I repeat it now."

Robert then arrayed himself in dry garments. He was strangely and
wonderfully attired in a shirt of fine linen with lace ruffles, a short,
embroidered jacket of purple velvet, purple velvet knee-breeches, silk
stockings and pumps, or low shoes, with large silver buckles. It was
very gorgeous, and, just then, very comfortable.

"You look the dandy to the full, Peter," said the slaver. "The clothes
have hung here more than a year. They came from a young Spaniard who had
the misfortune to resist too much when we took the ship that carried
him. They've come to a good use again."

Robert shuddered, but in a moment or two he forgot the origin of his new
raiment. He had become too much inured to deadly peril to be excessively
fastidious. Besides, he was feeling far better. Warmth returned to his
body and the beat of the rain outside the house increased the comfort
within.

"I think, Peter," said the slaver, "that you'd better go to sleep.
You've been through a lot, and you don't realize how near exhaustion you
are."

Without giving a thought to the question of food, which must present
itself before long, Robert lay down on the floor and fell almost at once
into a sound slumber.

CHAPTER VII

THE PIRATE'S WARNING

When the lad awoke it was quite dark in the house, but there was no
sound of rain. He went to the door and looked out upon a fairly clear
night. The storm was gone and he heard only a light wind rustling
through palms. There was no thunder of beating surf in the distance. It
was a quiet sky and a quiet island.

He went back and looked at the slaver. The man was asleep on his couch,
but he was stirring a little, and he was hot with fever. Robert felt
pity for him, cruel and blood-stained though he knew him to be. Besides,
he was the only human companion he had, and he did not wish to be left
alone there. But he did not know what to do just then, and, lying down
on the floor, he went to sleep again.

When he awoke the second time day had come, and the slaver too was
awake, though looking very weak.

"I've been watching you quite a while, Peter," he said. "You must have
slept fifteen or sixteen hours. Youth has a wonderful capacity for
slumber and restoration. I dare say you're now as good as ever, and
wondering where