me first," and seizing a bow
from the rack he drew it out of its case and strung it, and setting an
arrow on the string he pointed it at the Spaniards in the boat.

'Then the others broke into shouts of:

'"If you want any man from among us, come aboard and take him, you
torturing devils," and the like.

'Seeing where the heart of the crew lay, the captain found courage in
his turn. He made no answer to the Spaniards, but bade half of the men
hoist the sails with all speed, and the rest make ready to keep off the
soldiers should they seek to board us.

'By now the other two boats had come up and fastened on to us with their
hooks. One man climbed into the chains and thence to the deck, and I
knew him for a priest of the Holy Office, one of those who had stood by
while I was tormented. Then I grew mad at the thought of all that I had
suffered, while that devil watched, bidding them lay on for the love of
God. Snatching the bow from the hand of the Southwold seaman, I drew the
arrow to its head and loosed. It did not miss its mark, for like you,
Thomas, I was skilled with the bow, and he dived back into the sea with
an English yard shaft in his heart.

'After that they tried to board us no more, though they shot at us with
arrows, wounding one man. The captain called to us to lay down our bows
and take cover behind the bulwarks, for by now the sails began to draw.
Then de Garcia stood up in the boat and cursed me and my wife.

'"I will find you yet," he screamed, with many Spanish oaths and foul
words. "If I must wait for twenty years I will be avenged upon you and
all you love. Be assured of this, Luisa de Garcia, hide where you will,
I shall find you, and when we meet, you shall come with me for so long
as I will keep you or that shall be the hour of your death."

'Then we sailed away for England, and the boats fell astern.

'My sons, this is the story of my youth, and of how I came to wed your
mother whom I have buried to-day. Juan de Garcia has kept his word.'

'Yet it seems strange,' said my brother, 'that after all these years he
should have murdered her thus, whom you say he loved. Surely even the
evilest of men had shrunk from such a deed!'

'There is little that is strange about it,' answered my father. 'How
can we know what words were spoken between them before he stabbed her?
Doubtless he told of some of them when he cried to Thomas that now they
would see what truth there was in prophecies. What d