_Argos_ for a boat. One
presently arrived with Stubbs and Higgins at the oars. The little
cockney was struck with awe at sight of the dead man.

"My heye, Mr. Sedgwick, 'e's got 'is at larst and none too soon. 'Ow did
you do it?"

"I didn't do it. One of his friends did."

"Well, 'e 'ad it comin' to 'im, sir. But I'll sye for him that 'e was a
man as well as a devil."

We helped Gallagher down to the boat and he and I were taken aboard.

The wound in my shoulder was but a scratch.

It was enough, however, to let me in for a share of the honors with
Gallagher.

In truth I had done nothing but precipitate by my arrival the final
tragedy; but love, they say, is blind.

It was impossible for me to persuade Evelyn that I had not been the hero
of the occasion.

She could appreciate the courage of the three men who had chosen death
rather than to join Bothwell in his nefarious plans, but she was caught
by the melodramatic entry I had made upon the stage.

"You were one against fourteen, but that didn't stop you at all. Of
course the others were brave, but----"

"Sheer nonsense, my dear. Any one can shout 'Villain, avaunt!' and
prance across the sand, but there wasn't any pleasant excitement about
looking Boris Bothwell in the eye and telling him to shoot and be
hanged. That took sheer, cold, unadulterated nerve, and my hat's off to
the three of them."

She leaned toward me out of the shadow, and the light in her eyes was
wonderful.

With all the innocence of a Grecian nymph they held, too, the haunting,
wistful pathos of eternal motherhood.

She yearned over me, almost as if I had been the son of her dreams.

"Boy, Jack, I'm glad it's over--so glad--so glad. I love you--and I've
been afraid for you."

Desire of her, of the sweet brave spirit in its beautiful sheath of
young flesh, surged up in my blood irresistibly.

I caught her to my heart and kissed the soft corn-silk hair, the deep
melting eyes, the ripe red lips.

By Heaven, I had fought for her and had won her! She was the gift of
love, won in stark battle from the best fighter I had ever met.

The mad Irish blood in me sang.

After all I am not the son of a filibuster for nothing.

CHAPTER XXVII

IN HARBOR

The morning found me as good as new except for a dull ache in my
shoulder. I was up betimes for breakfast and ready for shore duty.

Yet I was glad to accept Blythe's orders to stay on board as long as we
remained in Darien Ha