ony
of his position, however, the most terrifying feature in this dreadful
situation to which his years of crime had at last brought him, was that
he was allowed no choice. He had always been a man of swift, prompt,
bold action; self-reliant, fearless, resolute, a master not a server;
accustomed to determine events in accordance with his own imperious
will, and wont to bring them about as he planned. To be chained there,
impotent, helpless, waiting, indeed, the judgment of God, was a thing
which it seemed impossible for him to bear. The indecision of it, the
uncertainty of it, added to his helplessness and made it the more
appalling to him.

The judgment of God! He had never believed in a God since his boyhood
days, and he strove to continue in his faithlessness now. He had been a
brave man, dauntless and intrepid, but cold, paralyzing fear now
gripped him by the heart. A few lingering sparks of the manhood and
courage of the past that not even his crimes had deprived him of still
remained in his being, however, and he strove as best he might to
control the beating of his heart, to still the trembling of his arms and
legs which shook the chains against the stone face of the rock making
them ring out in a faint metallic clinking, which was the sweetest music
that had ever pierced the eager hollow of the ear of the silent listener
and watcher concealed in the thicket.

So long as it was light Morgan intently watched the sea. There was a
sense of companionship in it which helped to alleviate his unutterable
loneliness. And he was a man to whom loneliness in itself was a
punishment. There were too many things in the past that had a habit of
making their presence felt when he was alone, for him ever to desire to
be solitary. Presently the sun disappeared with the startling suddenness
of tropic latitudes, and without twilight darkness fell over the sea and
over his haggard face like a veil. The moon had not yet risen and he
could see nothing. There were a few faint clouds on the horizon, he had
noticed, which might presage a storm. It was very dark and very still,
as calm and peaceful a tropic night as ever shrouded the Caribbean.
Farther and farther away from him he could hear the rustle of the
receding waves as the tide went down. Over his head twinkled the stars
out of the deep darkness.

In that vast silence he seemed to hear a voice, still and small, talking
to him in a faint whisper that yet pierced the very centre o