CHAPTER LXVI.
OF A CERTAIN TEMPEST THAT AROSE AND SHOOK THE CAPTAIN'S SPOONS AND TEA-CUPS; AND HOW THE WIND SUDDENLY WENT DOWN.
'I'm very glad, Sir, to have a few quiet minutes with you,' said the doctor, making then a little pause; and Devereux thought he was going to re-open the matter of his suit.

'For I've had no answer to my last letter, and I want to know all you can tell me of that most promising young man, Daniel Loftus, and his most curious works.' 'Dan Loftus is dead and--' (I'm sorry to say he added something else); 'and his works have followed him, Sir,' said the strange captain, savagely; for he could not conceive what business the doctor had to think about _him_, when Captain Devereux's concerns were properly to be discussed.

So though he had reason to believe he was quite well, and in Malaga with his 'honourable' and sickly cousin, he killed him off-hand, and disposed summarily of his works.
There was an absolute silence of some seconds after this scandalous explosion; and Devereux said--'In truth, Sir, I don't know.

They hold him capable of taking charge of my wise cousin--hang him!--so I dare say he can take care of himself; and I don't see what the plague ill's to happen him.' The doctor's honest eyes opened, and his face flushed a little.

But reading makes a full man, not a quick one; and so while he was fashioning his answer, the iron cooled.