When Sparrow opens the door and enters bearing a tray of food, James's stomach gives a loud grumble. He hadn't realised he was hungry at all, being rather preoccupied with his thoughts and his attempted search of the cabin. The hardtack is hardtack, of course, sustenance and nothing but, but those oranges look unspeakably delicious, and unconsciously his tongue flicks out to wet his lips as if he could already taste the tangy juice.

But then Sparrow's eyes are flicking over the table and under it, and James can practically see the thought process going, and he curses himself. However, there's no point denying it, as Sparrow already as good as knows, so he gives the pirate a brief, lazy quirk of the lips.

'Come now, Sparrow,' he drawls, 'Surely you would have expected no less of me. I wouldn't be half as interesting if I was nice and well-behaved now, would I?'

He eyes him speculatively. 'And surely someone such as yourself would have enough foresight not to leave any truly important documents simply laying about with an enemy in the room, mm? At least, so I assume, as there's nothing in there of any particular interest to me.'