h this in my fist. And down
the beach he comes, jocund and debonair in his finery, albeit something
pale by reason of excess and my rapier work. And now I come to look at
you, Martin, he was just such another as you as to face and feature,
though lacking your beef and bone. Now he beholding me where I stood,
flourishes off his belaced hat and, making me a bow, comes on smiling.

"'Ah,' says he gaily, ''tis Captain Penfeather of the Brotherhood,
a-collogueing with my latest wife! Is she not a pearl o' dainty
woman-ware, Captain, a sweet and luscious piece, a passionate, proud
beauty worth the taming--ha, Captain? And she is tamed, see you. To
your dainty knees, wench--down!' Now though he smiled yet and spake
her gentle, she, bowing proud head, sank to her knees, crouching on the
ground before him, while he looked down on her, the devil in his eyes
and his jewelled fingers toying with the dagger in his girdle, a
strange dagger with a hilt wrought very artificially in the shape of a
naked woman--"

"How," says I, leaning across the table, "A woman, Penfeather?"

"Aye, shipmate! So I stood mighty alert, my eyes on this dagger, being
minded to whip it into his rogue's heart as chance might offer. 'I
wonder,' says he to this poor lady, 'I wonder how long I shall keep
thee, madonna, a week--a month--a year? Venus knoweth, for you amuse
me, sweet. Rise, rise, dear my lady, my Dolores of Joy, rise and aid
me with thy counsel, for here hath this misfortunate clumsy Captain
fool blundered into our amorous paradise, this tender Cyprian isle
sacred to our passion. Yet here is he profaning our joys with his base
material presence. How then shall we rid ourselves of this offence?
The knife--this lover o' men of mine? The bullet? Yet 'tis a poor
small naked rogue and in two days cometh my 'Ladies' Delight' and
Tressady with his hook. See, my Dolores, for two days he shall be our
slave and thereafter, for thy joy, shall show thee how to die, my
sweet--torn 'twixt pimento trees or Tressady's hook--thou shalt choose
the manner of't. And now, unveil, unveil, my goddess of the isle--so
shall--' Ha, Martin! My stone took him 'neath the ear, and as he
swayed reeling to the blow, lithe and swift as any panther this
tortured woman sprang, and I saw the flash of steel ere it was buried
in his breast. Even then he didn't fall, but, staggering to a pimento
tree, leans him there and falls a-laughing, a strange, high-pitched,