I put my unhurt arm across my eyes.

“You are weak yet,” said the minister gently. “The Spaniard’s ball, you know, went through your shoulder, and in some way your arm was badly torn from shoulder to wrist. You have been out of your head ever since we were brought here, three days ago. The chirurgeon came and dressed your wound, and it is healing well. Don’t try to speak, — I’ll tell you all. Diccon has been pressed into service, as the ship is short of hands, having lost some by fever and some overboard. Four of the pirates were picked up, and hung at the yardarm next morning.”

He moved as he spoke, and something clanked in the stillness. “You are ironed!” I exclaimed.

“Only my ankles.