`` Tom , my man , '' said I , `` you 're going home . '' `` I wish I had had a lick at them with the gun first , '' he replied . `` Tom , '' said the squire , `` say you forgive me , wo n't you ? '' `` Would that be respectful like , from me to you , squire ? '' was the answer . `` Howsoever , so be it , amen ! '' After a little while of silence , he said he thought somebody might read a prayer . `` It 's the custom , sir , '' he added apologetically . And not long after , without another word , he passed away . In the meantime the captain , whom I had observed to be wonderfully swollen about the chest and pockets , had turned out a great many various stores -- the British colours , a Bible , a coil of stoutish rope , pen , ink , the log-book , and pounds of tobacco . He had found a longish fir-tree lying felled and trimmed in the enclosure , and with the help of Hunter he had set it up at the corner of the log-house where the trunks crossed and made an angle . Then , climbing on the roof , he had with his own hand bent and run up the colours . This seemed mightily to relieve him . He re-entered the log-house and set about counting up the stores as if nothing else existed . But he had an eye on Tom 's passage for all that , and as soon as all was over , came forward with another flag and reverently spread it on the body . `` Do n'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 may n'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 XXXXX 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 .
Howsoever Hunter Livesey Tom colours fir-tree first log-book tobacco weeks