"Are you still at your old work, ye hard-hearted ruffians, dragging off
the young and helpless to be drowned in the salt, salt sea. Aren't ye
emissaries of Satan; let him go free, or my curses rest on you." And
Jacob saw the tall figure of Mad Sal descending the cliffs by a pathway
few would have ventured to tread. Now and then she stopped and waved
the long staff she carried in her hand.
"Who is that old woman?" asked Miles. "Make her hold her tongue, some
of you, will you?"
"It's more than you or any other man can do," said one of the ruffians.
"Try it yourself, master."
Miles however showed no disposition to confront personally the mad
woman.
"Get this young fellow aboard as you were ordered, and never mind her."
This remark drew the attention of the mad woman, especially on Miles
himself.
"Who are you?" she asked. "Are you a being of the earth, or a spirit
from the nether world?" she shrieked out. "Speak, I command you,
speak!"
"Be off, and don't interfere with us, old woman!" answered Miles,
plucking up his courage.
"I thought my senses deceived me," shrieked out the mad woman, and she
turned towards the men with whom Jacob was struggling as they
endeavoured to drag him into the boat.
"Stay, I charge you, men, carry not off that poor lad on to the cruel
salt sea if he is unwilling to go; the salt, salt sea, the cruel salt
sea," and she burst out in her usual refrain.
The men paid no attention to her, and continued their efforts in
dragging Jacob to the boat.