CHAPTER XX

By the light of the flaming ship we had set sail. It was a moving

sight to see this precious link with home a mass of shooting flame

below a pall of lurid fire-flecked smoke. A sea of molten gold was

her death-bed, and, as we sailed slowly onward before the gentle

night wind, the fiery reflection stretched out after us till it faded

to fitful gleams on the crests of the waves, as though they bore us

farewell kisses from our lost ship.

'A true swan is she to the end,' said Harry softly, as though moved

by the scene. 'Beautiful she was in life, yet nothing in it was so

beautiful as her departing from it.'

We watched her burn down lower and lower, till she was nothing but a

glowing ember on the dark plain of the sea, and then in a moment she

was gone for ever. It was like losing an old friend, and there was

not one for the next few days who did not feel oppressed with evil

foreboding at the loss of that staunch craft that had brought such

luck to our captain.

We could not even lighten our hearts with the music, for Frank was

very earnest to depart as secretly as we could, that the Spaniards

might suppose us entirely gone from that coast by reason of the loss

of our ship.

Thus, attempting nothing that might betray us, we found on the fifth

day a most fair haven in the Sound of Darien, where we could anchor

the _Pasha_ out of all ken of the Spaniards, and refresh ourselves

till such time as the storm we had raised all along the coast should

be blown over.

It was a place as fair as Port Pheasant, where a man might have been

content to dwell all his days. A pretty town we built there, as

Diego showed us how, of boughs and brakes and flowers, in a space

which we cleared in the dense forest. Here our smith set up his

forge, our fletcher his shop for the ordering of our bows and arrows,

our butcher his block, and our shoemakers their lasts. Butts were

erected for bow practice, a lawn made for our bowls, and ground

prepared for quoits, leaping, wrestling, and all other sports that

our captain could devise for making us forget our losses and breed a

hopeful spirit for future attempts.

Half of us worked while the others played, day and day about; but for

me it was all play. For my work, having skill for it, was to hunt

the livelong day up in the forest-clad hills for the hogs, conies,

deer, and birds that lived half tame in their solitudes; or, rocked

on those azure seas, to lure the strange fish that swarmed about the

gilded rocks, with great pelicans and scarlet cranes for comrades at

the sport.

At such times, as I lay in some fairy glade above our little town, or

half asleep in our little gondola, I could hearken to the merry

tinkle of the anvil and the jolly laugh of the bellows mingling with

the cries and songs of the mariners at their work and play; and,

listening to the homely sounds, mellowed and transformed by the

tropic glory of earth and sky and sea, I could fancy that the old

life was gone with all its care and hideousness, being changed by the

rich spirit of the West to one long May-day.

In fifteen days our ship and pinnaces with this light labour were

refitted, and our captain with two of the pinnaces set sail for Rio

Grande in search of provisions and intelligences. I remained behind

with John Drake to search the coast in the other pinnace, in order

that if possible we might, by Diego's help, meet with the Cimaroons.

For six days we rowed up and down the Main aloof the shore, but found

no trace of those whom we sought. In these days I saw much of John

Drake, being all day and night in the pinnace with him, and I came to

love his simple, steadfast nature more than I ever had before, and

wondered to see how great was his control over the men by the very

earnestness of his worship of Frank, whose orders to him were as the

command of a god, to be carried out at all costs. It seemed as

though, when once he had a direction from his brother, all other

thoughts were dismissed from his mind. Any possibility of a

different course being good could never find a place in him.

So day after day we rowed hopelessly along that lovely shore, in

spite of the fearful heat. To every suggestion I could make he had

but one answer.

'Frank told us to row aloof the shore and find the Cimaroons,' he

would say, 'and he knows best. Cheerily, men, now! As like as not

we shall find them beyond the point ahead.'

To me the thing seemed hopeless. To find a few negroes in that vast

wilderness of forest by rowing along the shore appeared little better

than a wild-goose chase. Still I believed in Frank almost as much as

his brother did, and still more was encouraged by Diego, who

continued to urge us on as he sat in the forepart, chin in hand,

gazing fixedly into the forest.

It was on the seventh day, as we were almost worn out with the

growing heat of the sun, and all the shore was hushed before the

coming fire of the noonday, that Diego suddenly leaped up and,

casting both his hands above his head, gave forth a yell so loud and

strident as almost to stop your heart.

Again with his hand to his mouth he shot his fiendish call towards

the shore, as though to summon a legion of devils to his side.

'What is it, Diego?' cried Jack.

'See, captain, see! There lie my people asleep. I can see. Up

there on the hill. I can see a new hut.'

To our eyes all was the same wild waste, of foliage, but he saw more,

as we soon knew, for faintly out of the forest came an answering

shout.

'I knew Frank was right,' said Jack triumphantly. 'He knew where to

find them.' And away we went to the shore. Sure enough Frank was

right; for as our keel grated on the golden sand two pelicans rose

lazily from where they had been standing, a bowshot to our right, and

winged their solemn flight along the shore.

Something we knew must have flushed them, but we could see nothing in

the dense brakes. Diego hailed again, and then we saw a black face

peep stealthily at us. Poor folk! they dared not come out, for all

we had one of their kin with us. They had been too often betrayed to

their tormentors by such means before.

'_Que gente? que gente?_' cried the black head over his bent bow, as

we could plainly see.

'_Gente de Draque!_' cries Diego, leaping out of the boat and running

towards them. '_Draque! Draque!_'

So it was they always called our general, since his name came hard to

their half-Spanish tongues. And what a name it was to them we soon

saw. For, after a strange, discordant babbling between Diego and the

Cimaroon, a loud cry went up in the bushes and out rushed some score

of dancing yelling fiends. Never saw I greater delight or heartier

welcome than in these poor folk. For a good space we could do

nothing with them, for their dancing and leaping round us and

embracing of our feet, especially Captain John's, to his great

discomfort, being a plain, simple man, not used to homage.

There was no peace for us till Diego begged that we should suffer

them to bear us to their huts, which request our captain granted,

leaving two men with the pinnace. Their joy was then complete, and

each black fellow stood in front of one of our men, bending his back

for him to mount, which at last we all did, seeing how earnest they

were; and so, with no more ado with the biggest of us than if he had

been a baby, they trotted off, laughing and singing up the steep path

that led to their huts.

We were soon set down in a little hamlet like our own town, but much

prettier and more artfully constructed, because of their greater

skill. Here each vied with another to set before us delicate fruits

and fowls and a certain fermented liquor which they had, very

pleasant to the taste and medicinable to the spirits. So like kings

we lay in those leafy bowers feasting merrily, each with a grinning

henchman or two to do his lightest bidding. Indeed I think, had we

permitted, they would have crowned us with flowers, and seen us eat

our banquet like that dainty gallant Horatius Flaccus with his boon

companions.

By the end of our dinner we were all like brothers with these merry

folk, after the manner of English mariners, though I think half of

our company could not understand two words of Spanish. Their chief

was soon in close talk with John and me and Diego, and we broached

our business to him. It is an easy embassy when both parties desire

one thing. Our wish, no less than theirs, was for them to meet the

general and arrange our comedy for the entertainment of the

Spaniards. In a very short space it was agreed that we should leave

two of our men with the chief and take two of his to the general, in

token of pure good-will and amity between us, and that they should

come down to a river which ran into the sea half-way between the

haven where our ships lay and certain headlands towards Nombre de

Dios, which we always called 'The Cahezas.' This river we called the

'Rio Diego,' after our faithful Cimaroon ally.

There was some difficulty in choosing our hostages, since every

mariner there wished to stay, preferring the cheery homage and good

fare of the Cimaroons to hard work and 'Poor John' in the pinnace.

At last it was settled by lot, and we bore away again amidst the like

rejoicings that had welcomed us, and with a fair wind came the same

night to our ship.

It seemed to all men a plain work of God for the encouraging of our

allies that the very next day our general, with two frigates besides

the pinnaces, came sailing into 'Port Plenty.' So he now named our

haven, having seen by this first voyage how well we could supply

ourselves from the victuallers that sailed to Nombre de Dios and

Carthagena, and from the Indians about the Rio Grande, as well as

from the Spanish storehouses thereon.

'If a man may judge by this fair beginning,' said he when we came to

speak of it, 'no name was ever better bestowed, for besides a great

store of provision which we obtained from the river, I have taken

five or six frigates and a bark, laden with live hogs, hens, maize,

and other provision which we require. But I gave away all the

prizes, except the two best, to the Spaniards for their pain in

supplying us so bountifully; and there are those we kept.'

He pointed to where the two captured frigates lay, and went on to

tell me how he had obtained what was dearer to him than victuals, and

that was divers opinions of himself that prevailed amongst the

Spaniards. It was always his way while he kindly entertained his

prisoners to get them to speak about himself, and if their answers

were to his mind I think they often got off the more lightly. His

enemies, for even that noble spirit has enemies in these backbiting

times, set this down to a sordid love of flattery, but I know it was

from no such cause. For love of merriment he did it, no less than to

encourage his men, who joyed to hear the dread their captain begot

amongst the Spaniards. No man ever knew better than he how to win

the confidence and respect of his men, and this was one way he used

to that end. And no man was ever more laughter-loving than he, and

no jest did he love so much as to hear how he frightened the

Spaniards. For those reasons and no other he was wont to question

his prisoners, and I hold it foul slander to say that heroic

navigator was pleased with sordid flattery.

I remember well his first words were of this when, the same day that

he returned to Port Plenty, I boarded his frigate with Jack.

'Why, Jasper,' says he, taking my hand in his cheery way, 'you have

missed a merry time in chasing Cimaroons, though God be praised that

has so blessed your search. What think you they say of me, man? It

is a jest worth more laughter than all the company could furnish in a

month. Why, man, they say it is a devil. None but a devil or a

saint, they swear, with but a handful of men could have quietly

entered and held the Treasure-House of the mightiest emperor under

the sun as we did. And since, being a "Lutheran dog," I am no saint,

I must perforce be a devil, and you, my lad, an imp of Satan.'

'By which sharp reasoning,' says Mr. Oxenham, 'they save their

gentility when they run away.'

'And like Christian gentlemen,' cried Harry, 'when the fiend appears

cry, "Get thee behind me, Satan," and incontinently turn their backs.'

'Yet,' said I, 'it seems to me that they would serve their gentility

better by a more courteous appellation of their enemy.'

'And so your true Castilian does,' says Frank. 'For all the wrong

they have done me, yet I hold your true Castilian a gentleman and a

man of honour, and no coward. Such a one I took off Tolu, and as we

supped together on the good things which for our trouble in chasing

him he had felt bound to bestow on us, he told a different tale, and

set no horns on my head.'

'No,' broke in Harry; 'it was all your most chastened, precise,

five-foot-in-the-blade, good manners. "By your most high-bred

courtesy," says he, "I now know for truth what gentlemen say of the

valiant Captain Drake, whose felicity and valour are so pre-eminent

that Sir Mars, the god of war, and Sir Neptune, the god of the sea,

seem to wait on all his attempts, which same notwithstanding are

eclipsed, overshadowed, and put out of countenance by the nobility

and generosity of his carriage towards the vanquished, whereby defeat

is made sweeter than victory." And with such like good report he

continued to discharge his great pieces in the captain's honour all

supper-time till we were wellnigh deafened with the thunders of his

courtesy.'

'It was a very high mass of worship,' said Mr. Oxenham, 'till, by

this light, we began to doubt if we were not saints after all.'

'God forbid,' says Frank; 'as you love salvation be an English devil

rather than a Spanish saint.'

'Well, here are our brother devils,' cried Harry, as the two

Cimaroons we had brought were led forward by John Drake. 'Order

yourselves, signors, to receive the embassy of the Prince of

Darkness.'

So the negroes came forward and testified of the joy their whole

nation had at our captain's coming, because of the renown he had won

amongst them by his proceedings at Nombre de Dios and in his two

former voyages, and finally most respectfully told him how their

chief waited for him at the Rio Diego, to see if haply it was his

pleasure to use them against their common enemies.

A council of war was held to consider how far we could trust these

people, and what course we should take forthwith: whereat, after his

usual manner, Frank listened very attentively to all our advices, and

then took his own; which was forthwith to move our whole force up to

the Rio Diego, where John Drake and I had discovered an excellent

haven amongst the islands that were clustered there.

I went on before with Frank in his pinnace to show him where we

should meet with the Cimaroon chief, which we did very joyfully at

the place appointed. The negroes' joy at meeting our captain was so

great that it was long before we could get to any quiet speech with

them, but at last we went aside with the chief into the leafy bower

which served him for a house, and Frank told him how he wished his

people to help us get gold and silver from the Spaniards.

'Gold and silver!' said the negro, a giant in growth and strength who

spoke good Spanish. 'Do you mean gold and silver?'

'Yes, surely,' said Frank; 'what else could we want?'

'Why, even that which we want,' said the negro.

'And what is that?' Frank asked.

'Revenge,' answered the negro, 'revenge for all the wrongs those

hell-hounds have wreaked on us.'

'Why, so do I,' said Frank cheerfully, 'and therefore will I take

from them what I want most and what they love best, even gold and

silver.'

'Ah, but they love something better than that,' said the chief

eagerly, as though clutching at a hope. 'They love life better. And

we want something more than gold, we want blood--Spanish blood! To

dip our arms in to the elbow, and our legs to the knees,' he went on,

with the glare of a wild beast in his eyes. 'Help us to get that,

captain, and you shall have all the gold and silver you can want.

But for us it is not enough. What your wrongs have been I know not,

but ours are such that gold and silver will not avenge them. Had you

felt the lash curl round your ribs, had you seen your comrades

tortured to new effort when they dropped to die of sickness and

fatigue, had you seen a little part of what happens every day to my

people, you would forget gold and silver, and all but blood, and

never joy but when you saw it bubbling out from the rent your knife

had made.'

We were both shocked at the savageness of our new ally, and Frank

told him in his plain blunt way that if they attempted anything

together the prisoners must be his, as well as the gold, though in

the fight they might kill as many as they would. The poor savage was

sadly disappointed, and would, I think, have hardly agreed to it if

Frank had not fed him with a picture of the havoc our arrows and

small shot would make amongst their enemies, and how sorely they

grieved over the loss of gold.

'I know, I know,' said the Cimaroon sadly; 'and often we take gold

from them, not from love of it, but in despite of them. So be it as

you say, captain, for you we will follow to death against the

Spaniards, whatever be your will. Yet had I known it was gold you

wanted, there is plenty we have taken and sunk in the rivers which

you might have had, but now they are so swollen with the rains that

there is no coming at it. Nor can we take any till the dry season

begins, for in the rainy months they do not carry any treasure by

land, because the ways are so evil.'

This was most unhappy news. It was nearly five months still before

the dry season began. To attempt with our pinnaces to capture the

gold frigates coming down the Chagres river was madness, seeing that

since our coming we heard they were always guarded by two galleys.

To wait five months was to run great risk not only of being attacked

in strength by the Spaniards, but also by sickness, which is very

rife in those regions during this time.

Another council was held as soon as our strength joined us, and once

more Frank heard willingly our opinions and followed his own, which

was to make a lodgment in a hidden part of the coast, whence, that we

might employ our leisure as well as gather provisions, we could from

time to time sally out to annoy the Spaniards and satisfy ourselves.

Our captain further resolved to establish magazines besides those we

already had about Port Plenty, so that if one were discovered we

might have others to supply us.

To this end the _Pasha_ was brought in through the islands with great

labour and much dangerous pilotage within a few bowshots of the Main,

and there moored hard by a reasonable island, in such a place as even

if she were discovered, which was wellnigh impossible, so shrouded

was she by trees, no enemy could come at her by night or even by day

without great risk of falling amongst shoals.

Our island contained some three acres of good flat ground, which our

captain next began to fortify, setting out, after the best manner

used in the wars, a triangular fort made of timber and earth dug from

the trench about it. Harry having, as I have said, no little skill

in these matters was set over this work, Culverin being quartermaster

under him. The Sergeant therefore was now in great spirits, for I

think the ships, and still more the pinnaces, were as little to his

mind as ever. His stiff back and large form could never accommodate

itself to the straight quarters and uneasy motion to which he was

condemned at sea. Now, it was a real pleasure to see his gaunt

figure striding once more a-land, directing the Cimaroons, of whom

another band had joined us, as nicely as though he were entrenching

the Emperor's own camp.

'Sea wars I will never decry again,' said he, when I went to give him

joy, 'especially since Captain Drake is of that profession; yet for

dignity, honour, and contemplation how can they compare to land wars?

Truly, the world lost much, sir, when Captain Drake became a sailor.'

'Yet he is an indifferent good sea-captain, Sergeant,' said I.

'Yes, sir; too good, greatly too good,' said Culverin. 'Few men,

look you, have been born with such soldiership. See, now, the care

he bestows in fortifying his camp, after the true manner of Julius

Cæsar, and yet he has never read a word of the _Commentaries_. It is

there he shows it. For, saving your wisdom, your true soldiership is

not valour, as many think. Valiant blades we have in plenty in every

land. Your great soldier must know what to fear and when to fear,

and so guard himself. To fear valiantly is your philosopher's stone

of victory. Take that of me, sir.'

I think we were all of Sergeant Culverin's opinion, except perhaps

Mr. Oxenham. He was ever a reckless man who could not fear anything,

and so, as all men know, was afterwards brought to his evil end on a

Spanish gallows. But the rest of us were glad to see what care our

general took that we should pass our five months in safety, and above

all the Cimaroons, who saw in our preparations a sure token that we

were resolved to stand by them.

Nor did they leave us without testimony of their satisfaction. It

was like fairyland to see how a little town built of Palmito boughs

rose up as if by magic upon our island, with fair houses for all our

company; and afterwards they so laboured at our fort that in two

weeks the ordnance and artillery were all in position within it, and

Frank was free to depart in search of victuals and intelligence.

On the 7th of October he bid us farewell amidst a merry burst from

our music, and bore away for Carthagena, leaving his brother John as

governor of the fort over those who were left behind. Both Harry and

I remained to assist him in governing the Cimaroons and completing

our works. Had we but known the sorrow that was to come on us ere

those two pinnaces returned, I think our parting would have been less

blithe. But as it was we feared nothing; for our exploit at Nombre

de Dios and all that had followed, no less than the constant report

we had from the Cimaroons and our prisoners of the terror we had

created, had bred in us a sort of reckless courage, as well as a

laughing contempt for our enemies, which made us think that no

attempt was too hard for us.

I cannot wonder at it or blame any for their overweening confidence,

seeing what our handful of unknown mariners had done against the

mighty power of the King of Spain. Surely never had folly, for I

hold contempt of a brave enemy no less, a better excuse. Would it

had had a lighter punishment!

It was on this wise that it came about. At the Cativaas Islands,

some five leagues away from our fort, was a frigate laden with

planks. She was a prize Frank's pinnaces had taken in the Rio Grande

and left there till she should be wanted. But in a storm she was

driven hard ashore and now lay disabled. Out of tenderness for his

ordnance and crew Frank ordered that our first care should be to

fetch away her timbers and planks, to make platforms for the former

and good huts for the latter.

For the rains still continued. The island was a slough of mire

wherever we worked, and the bowers which the Cimaroons made us hardly

availed to keep out the deluge of rain that fell every day.

Therefore as soon as Frank was gone we set about our work, John Drake

going himself to order the matter in the pinnace called _Lion_. I

went with him and about half a crew besides.

It was the second afternoon after Frank's departure that we were

returning to our fort with a load of planks, when we descried a

deep-laden frigate making for Nombre de Dios.

'Will you not attempt her, Captain John?' said one of the men, a

quartermaster called Allen.

'Not I,' says Jack; 'though nothing would be more to my mind had we

finished the work which our general set us to do.'

'What matter of that?' cried Allen; 'it is but half an hour's work to

make her ours. A pretty prize she will be for us, and I don't see

why the rest should have all the sport and we all the labour.'

'Well, it is just because the general so ordered it,' says Jack.

'That is enough for me and enough for you.'

'Nay, then,' said Allen, 'I know the general never meant us to be

forbidden fair booty. What say you, lads?' and the men all said he

was right, and that they were for attempting the frigate.

'Then must you be mad,' cried Jack. 'You know not how the frigate is

provided, while you are sure we are cumbered with planks and have no

weapons.'

'We have a rapier,' objected Allen, 'and a visgee, and a caliver, and

that is enough for Englishmen against any yellow-livered Dons.'

'But the rapier is broken, the visgee old and worn, and the caliver

all a-rust,' said Jack. 'I tell you you are mad, and I will have no

part with your madness. The general's orders are straight, and I

would not depart from them were we twice as many, and twice as well

armed.'

But the men still murmured and continued to urge him to it, till I

wondered to see how he could resist them, and loved him more than

ever for his loyalty to his brother's commands.

'Never mind, lads,' said Allen mockingly at last. 'We will go to the

fort and wait till the general comes back. He knows how to show Dons

what dirt they are under English feet, and he will make us amends

when he hears how our voyage was spoilt, because our captain was

afraid of a craft only three times his size.'

Poor Jack! That was more than he could endure. It touched him in

his one weak point, which Allen knew well enough. He was a lion in

courage, but yet not brave enough to bear calmly any suspicion of

cowardice.

'What!' he roared. 'You dog! Dare you use me so? Then, by yea and

nay, you shall have your will, and see who is afraid and who is not.'

'Oh, never mark him, Jack!' I said, wishing to dissuade him from this

wild attempt. 'Look not round at every cur that barks! Who doubts

your courage is an ass!'

'No, Jasper, hold your peace,' cried poor Jack, more furious than

ever. 'Never shall they say to my brother that their voyage is lost

by my cowardice. They shall run their heads into danger, but never

shall they say mine was not there first. Give me the rapier. Allen,

take you the visgee and stand by my side in the forepart if you are a

man. Robert shall take the caliver, and Mr. Festing steer. And now,

lads, overboard with the planks or we shall never catch her.'

In a very short time the pinnace was clear, Jack was standing in the

forepart with the broken rapier, and his pillow wrapped round his

left hand for a warding gauntlet, for there was no buckler in the

boat, and Allen stood by his side. We overhauled our chase very

quickly, and were soon but a few boat-lengths from her. I could see

she had taken measures to prevent our boarding, and was doubtless

well prepared.

'See, Jack,' I cried, 'she has close-fights all round her bulwarks;

we shall never board.'

'We shall board her or never another,' said he, with set teeth. 'It

is too late to turn now. What I take in hand I carry through.

Steady as she goes, and stand by to board!'

In another moment we fell aboard of her. I saw Jack and Allen leap

up on her close-fights. Then suddenly she was alive with belching

flame. There was a roar, a cloud of smoke, a flash of pikes, and in

the midst two bodies fell heavily back into the pinnace.

'Shove off for your lives,' I cried, 'before they grapple.' For I

could see the frigate was swarming with pikes and small shot.

Those in the forepart seized their oars, some thrusting away from our

enemies' side, while others swiped at the faces of those who were

trying to grapple or stay our purpose with their long pikes and

halberds. Amongst these I saw Jack rise painfully and work with a

will. Once I saw a pike levelled straight at Allen as he too was

shoving off, in spite of an awful wound in his head. I made sure he

was gone, but Jack dashed his oar into the pikeman's face and fell

backwards fainting with the effort.

By good luck at that moment we fell free, and a few lusty strokes

fetched us clear. With all our force we rowed out of danger of her

small shot; but they neither saluted us again nor made anything of

their triumph, believing, as I think, it was best not to tempt us to

return.

'Tell Frank how it was, lad,' said Jack, as I laid him down in the

stern all covered with blood, and he opened his eyes.

'Nay, lad,' said I, 'you shall tell him yourself.'

'No, never, Jasper,' murmured he; 'my time is come. God has judged

me for disobeying Frank's words; he always knew best. But Allen

maddened me. Poor fellow! he is sore hurt. See to him, Jasper.

'Tis a brave heart.'

'First I must see to you,' I said, 'and mend your hurt a bit.'

''Tis no good,' he said, more faintly still. 'Mine is past mending.

I feel it. What will Frank say of me? Would my death had come any

way but this! Yet they will not call me coward again, will they,

Jasper?'

His voice grew weaker and weaker, and a deadly pallor overspread his

face.

'Tell father how it was I disobeyed Frank,' he went on, with long

spaces between the words. 'He will forgive me. He knows it always

maddened me to be called coward. But what will Frank say? what will

Frank say?'

Again he urged me to go to the others and see if I could not remedy

the evil his disobedience had brought on the company. I found Allen

at death's door, cursing himself with his last breath for what he had

brought on his valiant captain. Two or three others were hurt, but

not grievously; and as soon as I had tended them a little I went

again to Jack's side. I could see death written on his face, and

gave him some wine to revive him.

'Tell Frank how I grieved for my folly,' he said, speaking with great

difficulty. 'And tell Joe never to swerve a hairsbreadth from the

course Frank marks. And ask him to forgive me. And, Jasper, say a

prayer for me; not for superstition, lad, but just for comfort's

sake.'

I had not prayed since that terrible night at the inn, which now

seemed so long ago and so far away. Yet I could not refuse. So I

knelt down, and all the mariners did likewise, uncovering

respectfully. I prayed, as well as I could recall it, the prayer I

heard on the old preacher's lips at my father's funeral, and repeated

the beautiful words of his text, which I remembered so well.

'Now sing a psalm,' said the dying man; 'just for comfort's sake--for

comfort's sake.'

So on that still and lonely tropic sea we raised with our rough

voices a homely English hymn, to the deep diapason of the booming

surf sounding outside the islands. As we ended he smiled, and I saw

his lips moved. I leaned down to hear what he said.

'Frank will forgive me,' the low murmur said, 'when you tell him how

it was. He was always good to us, Frank was, and always knew best.

He will understand. Frank always underst----'

So his murmur ceased; and that brave youth, my friend, passed

peacefully away as the sun went down. And within an hour Allen's

soul followed his captain's.

Next day we buried them both on the island, thinking much of the high

hopes we had of our governor's greatness had he lived, and deeply

lamenting the cheerful, steadfast spirit that was gone from amongst

us. As for the simple Cimaroons, they were beside themselves with

grief, and would have performed strange idolatrous ceremonies about

his grave had we suffered it, but the sailors would not let them go

near, save once a day to cover it with fresh flowers. This was their

only comfort, save a sure hope that, now his brother was killed,

Frank would be no longer content with gold, but would want to 'wash

his elbows' in Spanish blood.

For God and Gold · 第 20 / 28 章