CHAPTER XLVI
HOW I DOUBTED MYSELF
Now as I stood thus, staring out to sea, the moon sank and with it myheart also, for as the dark came about me so came darkness within meand sudden sorrow with great fear of the future; wherefore, beholdingthe loom of the ship where lights twinkled, I would gladly have seenher a shattered wreck, and hearing the hoarse laughter and voices ofthese lawless fellows waking the echoes of Deliverance Beach, I hatedthem one and all, and to my fear and sorrow anger was added. But nowcometh my dear lady to stand beside me, to steal her hand into mine,and never a word betwixt us for a while. At last:
"So endeth our solitude, Martin!"
"Aye!"
"Our deliverance is come!" says she and then, very softly, "Doth notthis rejoice you?" Here answer found I none, since now at last I knewthis the very thing I had come most to dread. So was silence againsave for these hoarse unlovely voices where they launched and boardedthe longboat. "Master Adam would have me go on board, Martin, but 'tisnear dawn so will I bide with you to welcome this new day."
"I'm glad you stayed, Damaris." At this I felt her clasp tighten on myfingers, and so she brings me to a rock hard by and, sinking on thewarm sand, would have me sit by her; thus, side by side, we watched theboat pull away to the ship, and presently all about us was hushed andstill save for the never-ceasing murmur of the surge.
"Martin," says she in a while, "with this new day beginneth for us anew life! In a few short hours we sail for England."
"England! Aye, to be sure!" says I, mighty doleful, but, conscious ofher regard, strove to look happy yet made such a botch of it that,getting to her knees, she takes my hang-dog face betwixt her two hands.
"O but you are glad?" she questions, a little breathlessly, "Glad tocome with me to England--to leave this wilderness?"
"Aye!" I nodded, well-nigh choking on the word.
"Dear Martin, look at me!" she commanded, "Now speak me plain. Whenceis your grief?"
"O, my lady," quoth I, "'tis the knowledge of my unworthiness, myunloveliness, my rude and graceless ways; England is no place for likeof me. I am well enough here in the wild--to work for you, fight foryou an' need be, but how may I compare with your fine gallants andcourtly gentlemen?"
Now at this she clasps me all sudden in her arms and setting soft cheekto mine falls a-chiding me, yet kissing me full oft, calling me"silly," "dear," "foolish," and "beloved."
"How shall you compare?" cries she, "Thus and thus, dear Martin--soinfinitely above and beyond all other men that unless you wed me needsmust I die a maid!"
Thus did she comfort me, soothing my fears, and thus the dawn found us.
"O 'tis day!" she sighed, "'Tis day already!" And now 'twas her voicewas doleful whiles her eyes gazed regretful round about the white sandsof Deliverance and the tree-clad highlands beyond. "O indeed I do lovethis dear island of ours, Martin!"
Sudden upon the stilly air was the beat of oars, and we beheld a boatrowed by a couple of mariners and in the stern-sheets Sir Rupert Deringand the three gentlemen, his companions. Hereupon my lady would haveme go with her to meet them then and there, but I shook my head.
"Do you go, Damaris, I'll not speak them before I must. And should youhave cause to mention me I pray you will not tell my name."
"As you will, dear Martin," says she and, pressing my hand, goes herway. From the shadow of the rock I watched these gentlemen leap gailyashore to bow before her with many and divers elegant posturings,flourishes and flauntings of hats, kissing of her hands and the likegallantries until I must needs scowl otherwhere; yet even so, wasconscious of their merry laughter where they paced to and fro and thenew risen sun making a glory about her. At last she curtseys, andstaying them with a gesture, comes hasting back to me.
"Martin," says she, "it seems there be men wounded and dying on boardship, so must I go to them. Will you not come with me?"
"Nay," I answered, "I'll to the caves for such things as you wouldbring away."
"Why then, my spoon, Martin, and three-legged stool, bring these--naywait, 'tis there I would bid farewell to this our dear island. Wait methere, Martin."
So away she goes on her errand of mercy, leaving me to my thoughts andthese all of England and my future life there. I was fain to picturemyself married and happy in my lady's love, my life thenceforth asuccession of peaceful days amid the ordered quiet of that Kentishcountryside I knew and loved so well. With the eye of my mind I seemedto see a road winding 'twixt bloomy hedgerows, past chattering brooksand pleasant meadows, past sleepy hamlet bowered 'mid trees and so,'neath a leafy shade, to where rose tall gates, their pillars crownedby couchant leopards wrought in the stone, and beyond these a broadavenue, its green shadow splashed with sunlight, leading away to thehouse of Conisby Shene with its wide terrace where stood my ladywaiting and expectant; yet nowhere could I vision myself. And now Imust needs bethink me of Godby's "long, dark road with the beckoninglight and the waiting arms of love," and in my heart the old doubtwaked and a fear that such peace, such tender meetings and welcomessweet, were not for such as I, nor ever could be.
From these gloomy reflections I was roused by a giggling laugh, andglancing about, espied Sir Rupert and his three fellows, their finerysomewhat the worse for their late hardship yet themselves very gay anddebonair none the less as they stood viewing me and mighty interested.Presently Sir Rupert steps up to me with his haughtiestfine-gentlemanly air and no civility of bowing.
"Let me perish but here's notable change!" says he, surveying my richattire, so that I yearned for my rags again. "Here is strangemetamorphosis! The sullen and rustic Cymon bloometh at Beauty'smandate, Caliban is tamed!" At the which sally his companions giggledagain.
"Sir," quoth I, and awkwardly enough, "I am in no mood for yourpleasantries. If therefore you have aught else to say of me, prayremove out o' my hearing." This protest Sir Rupert fanned airily asidewith be-ringed hand.
"I gather," says he, "that you have been at some pains of service to myLady Brandon in her late dolorous situation here--receive my thanks!"
"I wish none o' your thanks, sir--"
"None the less I bestow 'em--on my Lady Brandon's behalf. Furthermore--"
"Enough, sir, I would be alone."
"Furthermore," he continued and with another airy motion of his whitefingers, "I would have you particularly remark that if my Lady Brandon,lacking better company, hath stooped to any small familiarities withyou, these must be forgot and--"
"Ha!" I cried, springing to my feet, "Begone, paltry fool, lest I kickyou harder than I did last time at Conisby Shene."
"Insolent gallows'-rogue!" he panted, reaching for his sword-hilt, butas he freed it from scabbard I closed with him and, wrenching it fromhis hold, belaboured him soundly with the flat of it, and such of hiscompanions as chanced within my reach, until hearing shouts, I espiedAdam approaching with divers of his grinning fellows; whereupon Isnapped the blade across my knee and hasted from the place.
I strode on haphazard in a blind fury, but reaching the woods at lastand safe from all observation, I cast myself down therein, andgradually my anger grew to a great bitterness. For (thinks I)"gallows'-rogue" am I in very truth an outcast from my kind, a creatureshamed by pillory and lash, a poor wretch for spiteful Fortune'sbuffets. Hereupon (being a blind fool ever) I cursed the world and allmen in it saving only my unworthy self. And next, bethinking me of mydear lady who of her infinite mercy had stooped to love such as I, itseemed that my shame must smirch her also, that rather than lifting meto her level I must needs drag her down to mine. She, wedding me, gaveall, whiles I, taking all, had nought to offer in return save myunworthiness. Verily it seemed that my hopes of life with her inEngland were but empty dreams, that I had been living in the veryParadise of Fools unless--
Here I raised bowed head, and clenching my fists stared blindly beforeme.
How if the ship should sail without us?
CHAPTER XLVII
HOW MY DOUBTING WAS R
ESOLVED FOR ME
The sun being high-risen and myself famished with hunger, I set off forour habitation by paths well-hid from observation and yearning mightilyto find my lady there. Having scaled the cliff I reached the littleplateau, and parting the bushes, recoiled from the muzzle of a piecelevelled at me by a squat, grim fellow.
"What, Godby!" says I, frowning, "D'ye take me for murderer still,then?" At this he let fall his musket in blank amaze, and then camerunning and with hands outstretched.
"O pal!" cries he, "O pal--have I found ye at last? Ha, many's thetime I've grieved for ye and my fool's doubts o' you, Martin, choke meelse? I'm sorry, pal, burn me but I've repented my suspecting o' youever since, though to be sure you was mighty strange aboard the'Faithful Friend' and small wonder. But here's me full o' repentance,Martin, so--if you can forgive poor Godby--?"
"Full and freely!" says I, whereupon he hugs me and the tears runningdown his sunburned cheeks.
"Then we'm pals again, Martin, and all's bowmon!"
"And what o' me?" Turning about I beheld Adam on the threshold of thecave, "What o' me, shipmate?"
"Aye--what?" says I, folding my arms.
"Ha, doth the tap o' my pistol-butt smart yet, Martin?"
"I know you beyond all doubt for pirate and buccaneer--"
"All past and done, Martin."
"I know you planned from the first to seize the 'Faithful Friend.'"
"Aye, but where's your proof--the 'Faithful Friend' is blown up--"
"And by your hand, like as not."
"True again, so it was, Martin, and thereby did I outwit Tressady andsaved the lives of my own people."
"You have been at great pains to befool me to your evil ends."
"At no pains, Martin, 'twas purely simple matter!"
"You have been the death of divers men on this island."
"But always in fair fight!" says he, glancing at me in his furtivefashion. "'Twas them or me, comrade, and black rogues all."
"So you say!"
"And who's to deny it, shipmate?"
"Aye, who indeed? It seems you've killed 'em all."
"Ha, d'ye doubt my word, Martin?"
"Aye, I do so, and judging from what I know, I do take ye for a veryrogue and so I'm done with you henceforth."
"Rogue?" says he, "'Tis an ill word! And yet I had rather be roguethan fool, and you are the fool of the world, Martin, for here are youseeking quarrel with your best friend."
"Friend?" quoth I, "O God protect me from such!"
"Now, look'ee, you have named me rogue and good as called me liar,which is great folly seeing you do lie in my power. So here will Iprove my friendship and the depth of your folly."
"Nay--I'll hear no more!"
"Aye--but you will! Cover him, Godby, and fire if I say so!"
"O Lord love me!" groaned Godby, but obeyed nevertheless, and lookingwhere he stood, his piece levelled at me, I knew he would obey Adam'sword despite his anguished looks.
"And now," says Adam, crossing his arms, "here's the truth on't. Ifound a poor wretch bent on vengeance, murder, and a rogue's death,which was pure folly. I offered you riches, the which you refused, andthis was arrant folly. I took you for comrade, brought you aboard shipwith offer of honest employ which you likewise refused and here wasmore folly. Your conduct on board ship was all folly. So, despiteyourself, I set you on a fair island with the right noble and handsomelady that you, by love, might perchance learn some little wisdom.Well, you fall in love--"
"Stop!" cried I, clenching my fists.
"Not I!" says he, uncrossing his arms, and I saw he had levelled apistol at me in the crook of his arm, "I'm no fine gentleman for ye tobruise, so haul your wind and listen! You fall in love with my lady,as how could you help, and she with you, which is a matter of somewonder. So here are you full o' love, but doth this teach ye wisdom?Never a whit! For now must you fall foul and belabour our fourgallants, and from mere fine gentlemen transform 'em into your deadlyenemies, and here was folly stupendous! And now you must quarrel withme, the which is folly absolute. Thus do I find ye fool persistent andconsistent ever, and I, being so infinitely the opposite, do contemnyou therefore--"
"And now ha' you done?" I demanded, raging.
"Not quite, Martin. You balked me i' the hanging o' these two roguesTressady and Mings, and here was pitiful folly, since to hang such werea wise and prudent measure. Thus have you loosed murder on my heelsagain, well, let that go. But you doubted my word, you named me rogue,and for this you shall fight me!" So saying he stepped into the caveand brought thence that same be-jewelled Spanish rapier.
"I've no mind to fight with you," says I, turning away.
"An excellent blade!" says he, making a pass in the air, then hetendered it to me hilt foremost and with the little bow.
"'Tis right you should know I am wearing the chain-shirt."
"No matter," quoth he, drawing, "there is your throat or youreye--come!"
So point to point we fell to it. I had been somewhat esteemed at theart once and now I matched his vicious thrusts with cunning parades,with volts and passes, pushing at him when I might, so that twice I wasvery near. But suddenly as he retreated before my attack, his bladedarted and flashed and he called out: "One!" And now he pressed me inturn with quick thrusts and bewildering feints, and presently calledout again: "Two! Three! Four!" Then I saw he was cutting the buttonsfrom my sleeve, how and when he would; therefore I cast away my swordin petulant anger and folded my arms.
"Lord love me! Are ye done, Martin?"
"O make an end one way or t'other, I'll not be played with!"
"Verily, you were more dangers with the club!" says he, and sheathedhis rapier. As for me, espying the three-legged stool, I sat me downmighty dejected and full of bitter thoughts until, feeling a touch onmy bowed shoulder, I looked up and found him beside me.
"Martin," says he, "'tis true you are a fool but your folly harmethnone but yourself! And thou'rt such honest fool that I must needs lovethee, which is strange, yet so it is. Look'ee, we have quarrelled andfought, very well--what's to let us from being friends again?"
"But if I doubt you, Adam?"
"Why, as to that," says he with his whimsical look, "I verily do thinkmyself a something doubtful being at times."
Now at this, up I rose and gripped his hand right heartily; which donehe brought me into the cave whiles Godby posted himself on thethreshold, leaning on his musket.
"What now, Adam?" I questioned.
"Now let us divide our treasure, Martin--"
"But I bartered my share for the lives of--"
"Tush!" says he, and reaching a valise from shadowy corner he opened itand I beheld such a glory of flashing gems as nigh dazzled me withtheir splendour. "Look at 'em, Martin, look at 'em!" he whispered."Here's love and hate, life and death, every good and all thesins--look at 'em!" And catching up a handful he let them fall,glittering, through his fingers. "Lord love me, Martin," he whispered,"'tis enough to turn a man's brain! Have ye counted 'em over, comrade?"
"I never saw them until this moment, Adam." And I confessed how in myfolly I had cast his letter of instruction into the sea, and of how mylady had found the secret at her dire peril.
"And she never showed you, Martin?"
"I was always too busy!"
"Busy!" says he, sitting back on his heels to stare up at me. "Busy? OLord love me! Sure there's not your like i' the whole world, Martin!"
"Which is mighty well for the world!" says I bitterly.
"'Tis vasty treasure, Martin and worth some little risk. And in thecave lie yet fifty and four bars of gold and others of silver, withstore of rix-dollars, doubloons, moidores and pieces of eight--goldcoins of all countries. There let 'em rot--here's more wealth than weshall ever spend. Shall we divide it here or aboard ship?"
"Wait rather until we reach England."
"So be it, comrade. Then I'm minded to apportion a share to Godbyhere--what d'ye say?"
> "With all my heart!"
"Why then 'tis time we got it safe on board."
"But how to do it--what of Tressady's rogues, Adam?"
"Having buried such of themselves as needed it, Martin, you shall see'em playing leap-frog on the sands down yonder happy as any innocentschool-lads, and never a firearm amongst 'em."
"Hist, Cap'n!" says Godby, suddenly alert, "The man Abner and his twomates a-peeping and a-prying!"
"Where away, Godby man?"
"Hove to in the lee o' them bushes yonder."
"'Tis sly, skulking rogue Abner!" says Adam, closing and strapping thevalise, "'Tis in my mind, Godby, this Abner will never live to seeEngland. Summon 'em hither, all three."
This Godby did forthwith, and presently the three fellows appeared who,knuckling their foreheads, made us their several reverences.
"What now, lads?" says Adam, viewing them with his keen eyes, "I seemto mind your looks, you sailed with Black Bartlemy aboard the 'Delight'I think? Nay, 'tis no matter, we'll let bygones be bygones, and we beall marvellous honest these days, the which is well. Meantime takethis dunnage down to the boat," and he pointed to the valise. Hereuponone of the fellows took it up, and knuckled an eyebrow to us in turn."We sail at sundown," says Adam, "so, Godby, you may as well go aboardand see that all be ready."
"Aye, aye!" says Godby, tightening the belt where swung his greatcutlass and, shouldering his musket, set off after the three.
"So there goeth our fortune aboard, comrade."
"And in desperate risky fashion, Adam."
"In safe, straightforward fashion rather, and in broad daylight, thewhich is surer than stealing it aboard in the dark."
"But should these rogues guess what they carry--"
"They won't, Martin, and if they should they have but their knives'gainst Godby's musket and pistols."
"Ha--murder, Adam?"
"Would you call this murder, comrade?"
"What other? I wonder what manner of man you'll be, away there inEngland?"
"A worthy, right worshipful justice o' the peace, Martin, if Providenceseeth fit, in laced coat and great peruke, to see that my tenants'cottages be sound and wholesome, to pat the touzled heads o' thechildren, bless 'em! And to have word with every soul i' the village.To snooze i' my great pew o' Sundays and, dying at last, snug abed, toleave behind me a kindly memory. And what for you, Martin? What seeyou in the ship yonder?"
"God knoweth!" says I, gloomily.
"Why not a woman's love, comrade, why not good works, rank andbelike--children to honour your memory?"
"Were I but worthy all this, Adam."
"Zounds, but here's humility! Yet your true lover is ever humble, I'veheard, so 'tis very well, Martin. And this doth mind me I bear you amessage from my lady--"
"A message--from her?" I cried, gripping his arm, "Out with it, man,out with it and God forgive you this delay! What says my lady?"
"This, Martin: she would have you shave according to late custom."
"Why, so I will! But said she no more?"
"Aye, something of meeting you here. So get to your shaving andcheerily, comrade, cheerily. I'll to the ship, for at sunset 'tis upanchor and hey for England! I'll fire two guns to warn you aboard, andtarry not, for the ship lieth within a sunken reef and we must catchthe flood." Here he turned to go, then paused to glance round thehorizon with a seaman's eye. "The wind is fair to serve us, Martin,"says he, pinching his chin, "yet I could wish for a tempest out o' thenorth and a rising sea!"
"And why, Adam, in Heaven's name?"
"'Twould be the sure and certain end of Tressady and Mings, comrade.Howbeit what's done is done and all things do lie in the hands ofProvidence, so do I cherish hope. Go and shave, Martin, go and shave!"
Left alone I betook me to my razors and shaved me with unwonted care,yet hearkening for her quick, light step the while.
Scarce was my labour ended that I thought to hear the rustle of leavesand hasted from the cave, calling on her name and mighty joyous andeager:
"Damaris! Art here at last, dear my lady!" And so came face to facewith Sir Rupert.
He stood smiling at my discomfiture, yet his black brows wereclose--but he halted and folded his arms and I could see the betrayingbulge of the pistol on his great side-pocket. For a while he measuredme with his eye, at last he spoke:
"Within the hour my Lady Brandon sails for England, and from this houryou will forget my Lady Brandon ever existed or--"
"Tush, man!" says I, "Begone, you weary me."
"Or," he went on with an airy gesture of his hand, "I shall cure yourweariness for good--"
"Shoot me?"
"Most joyfully! Whatsoever hath chanced betwixt you in thiswilderness, my Lady Brandon's honour must and--"
Warned by my look he clapped hand to his pocket but as he freed theweapon I was upon him, grasping his pistol-hand. For a moment weswayed together, he striving frantically to break my hold, I to wrestthe weapon from him, then it exploded, and uttering a sudden,long-drawn gasp he sank to the grass at my feet and lay very mute andstill. Whilst I yet stared from his pallid face to the pistol where ithad fallen, I heard shouts, a running of feet, and glancing up saw thethree gentlemen, his companions, standing at gaze, motionless; thensuddenly, they turned and hasted away, crying "murder" on me as theyran. Like one in a dream I stared down at Sir Rupert's motionlessform, until I was aware of my lady beside him on her knees and of thepallor of her face as she looked from him to me, her eyes wide withhorror:
"If you have killed him, Martin--if you have killed him, here is an endof our happiness--God forgive you!"
Now would I have spoken but found no words, for in this moment I knewthat Sir Rupert was surely dead. Dumbly I watched the passionatelabour of her dexterous hands, saw them pause at last to clasp andwring themselves in helpless despair, saw the three gentlemen, obedientto her word, stoop and lift that limp form and bear it slowly awaytowards Deliverance Sands and she going beside them.
Now as I stood watching her leave me, I heard the sudden roar of a gun,and glancing towards the ship saw they were already making sail.Roused by this I came beside my lady, and found my voice at last.
"Here was the work of chance--not I, Damaris, not I!"
But she, gazing ever on that piteous, limp form, sought to silence mewith a gesture. "God, Damaris, you'll never doubt my word?Speak--will you not speak to me? He threatened me--we strove togetherand the pistol went off in his grasp--"
"Damned Murderer!" cried one of the gentlemen.
After this I held my peace, despairing, and thus we went in silenceuntil before us was Deliverance Beach. All at once I caught her up inmy arms and, despite her struggles, began to bear her back up theascent. For a moment only she strove, uttering no word, then hidingher face against me, suffered me to bear her where I would. But now Iheard shouts and cries that told me I was pursued:
"You are mine, Damaris!" I cried, "Mine henceforth, and no man shalltake you from me whiles I live!"
Despite my haste the noise of pursuit waxed louder, spurring me togreater effort. And now it became the end and aim of my existence toreach the cave in time, wherefore I began to run, on and up, until mybreath came in great, panting sobs; my heart seemed bursting, and in mythrobbing brain a confusion of wild thoughts:
"Better die thus, my love upon my heart ... The ship shall sail withoutus ... The door of the cave is stout, God be thanked and, firing fromthe loophole, I may withstand them all."
Breathless and reeling I gained the plateau at last, but as I staggeredtowards the cave I tripped and fell heavily, crushing her beneath me.But I struggled up, and bearing her within the cave, laid her upon mybed and closing the door, barred it; then I reached my muskets fromtheir rack and set them in readiness. This done, and finding my lady sostill and silent, I came to view her where she lay and, peering in thedimness, uttered a great cry to see the pale oval of cheek horriblybedabbled with blood. Trembling in a sickness of fear I sank besideher
on my knees, then, seeing she yet breathed, I parted the silky hairabove her temple and so came on a cruel gash. Now as I strove tostaunch this precious blood I heard again the echoing thunder of a gun.
"Damaris!" says I, clasping her to me and kissing her pallid lips, "ODamaris, they are summoning us to England, d'ye hear, beloved, d'yehear? Well, they shall call in vain--they shall sail without us. Lovehath found us and here with Love will we abide. Wake, beloved, wakeand tell me you would have it so!"
But, save for her breathing, and despite all my pleading and caresses,she lay like one dead. So I brought water and bathed her face andthroat and wrists, yet all to no purpose, so that fear grew to agony.How if she die thus? (thinks I) Why then I can die likewise. Butagain, how if she wake, and finding the ship gone, despise me and, inplace of her lover, look on me as her gaoler? For a long while Icrouched there, my head bowed on my fists, since well I knew thatEngland might shelter me nevermore. And yet to part with her that wasbecome my very life--
As I knelt thus, in an agony of indecision, was sudden tumult ofknocking upon the door and the sound of fierce voices:
"Come forth, murderer! Open to us, rogue--open!"
But still I knelt there heeding only the hurry of my thoughts:
"How if the ship sail without us? How if she wake and know me for hergaoler? How might I endure loneliness? How part with her that wasbecome my life? Belike she might not hate me--"
"Open, murderer, open!" roared the voices.
"A murderer! How if she believe this? Better loneliness and deaththan to read horror of me in her every look!"
And now beyond the door was silence, and then I heard Adam hailing me:
"Oho, shipmate--unbar! Tide's on the turn and we must aboard. Andtrust me, Martin, for your comrade as will see justice done ye. Socome, Martin, you and my lady and let's aboard!"
"Aye, aye, Adam!" quoth I, "Better die o' solitude than live with abreaking heart. So cheerily it is, Adam!"
Then rising, I took my dear lady in my arms, and holding her against myheart, I kissed her hair, her closed eyes, her pale, unresponsive lips,and bearing her to the door, contrived to open it and stepped forth ofthe cave. And here I found Adam, pistol in hand, with divers of hisfellows and the three gentlemen who scowled amain, yet, eyeing Adam'sweapon, did no more than clench their fists and mutter of gibbets andthe like.
"Look you, Adam," says I, "my lady is stunned of a fall, but 'twill beno great matter once we come aboard--let us go."
"Why then, Lord love you, Martin--hasten!" says he, "For tide's fallingand it's all we shall do to clear the reef."
Reaching Deliverance Sands I saw the boat already launched and mannedand, wading into the water, laid my lady in the stern sheets.
"Come!" cried Adam, reaching me his hand, "In with ye man--"
"Not I, Adam."
"Why, what now, comrade?" says he, staring.
"Now--my hand, Adam, and a prosperous voyage!"
"How, comrade, will ye stay marooned in this desolation?" and hestooped to peer down at me. "Martin," says he, gripping my hand andstaring into my eyes, "Doth this mean you are safer here by reason ofthe mystery of Sir Rupert's sudden end?"
"Mayhap!" says I, and loosed his hand. "What think you?"
"That you are no murderer, comrade, nor ever will be!"
"My lady said as much once! Farewell, Adam!" And I waded back to thebeach.
"Give way, lads!" cries he, "Give way!" I heard the splash and beat oftheir oars, and when I turned to look I saw them half-way across thelagoon.
Then I turned and wandered aimlessly along these white sands that hadknown so often the light tread of her pretty feet. Very slowly I went,with eyes that saw not, ears that heard not and my mind a confusion ofbitter thoughts.
At last I reached the little plateau, and from this eminence beheld theship standing away under a press of sail, and saw that night was athand. Suddenly as I watched, the ship, her lofty masts and gleamingcanvas swam all blurred and misty on my sight, and sinking to my kneesI bowed my head.
"Almighty God!" says I, "Thou hast shown unto me the wonder of love andthe heaven it might have been, but since love is not for me, teach mehow I may be avenged."
But now, even as I prayed thus, my voice brake upon a great sobinsomuch that I might pray no more. Therefore I cast myself upon myface, forgetting all things but my great and bitter loneliness.
And so came night and shut me in.
* * *
Here then I make an end of this narrative of Black Bartlemy's Treasure,but how and in what manner I came to my vengeance is yet to tell.
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