rms cheerfully.

"Such a splendid man! And then one sailor bent down close to
Noni--perhaps he did not want to do any harm to him, but he bent down to
him too closely, so, I fired at him from your pistol. Is it nothing that
I fired at our sailor?"

Haggart laughs:

"He had a comical face! You killed him, Mariet."

"No. I don't know how to shoot. And it was he who told me where you
were. O Haggart, O brother!"

She sobs, and then she speaks angrily with a shade of a serpentine hiss
in her voice:

"I hate them! They were not tortured enough; I would have tortured them
still more, still more. Oh, what cowardly rascals they are! Listen,
Haggart, I was always afraid of your power--to me there was always
something terrible and incomprehensible in your power. 'Where is his
God?' I wondered, and I was terrified. Even this morning I was afraid,
but now that this night came, this terror has fled, and I came running
to you over the fiery road: I am going with you, Haggart. Take me,
Haggart, I will be the soul of your ship!"

"I am the soul of my ship, Mariet. But you will be the song of my
liberated soul, Mariet. You shall be the song of my ship, Mariet! Do you
know where we are going? We are going to look for the end of the world,
for unknown lands, for unknown monsters. And at night Father Ocean will
sing to us, Mariet!"

"Embrace me, Haggart. Ah, Haggart, he is not a God who makes cowards of
human beings. We shall go to look for a new God."

Haggart whispers stormily:

"I lied when I said that I have forgotten everything--I learned this in
your land. I love you, Mariet, as I love fire. Eh, Flerio, comrade!" He
shouts cheerfully: "Eh, Flerio, comrade! Have you prepared a salute?"

"I have, Captain. The shores will tremble when our cannons speak."

"Eh, Flerio, comrade! Don't gnash your teeth, without biting--no one
will believe you. Did you put in cannon balls--round, east-iron, good
cannon balls? Give them wings, comrade--let them fly like blackbirds on
land and sea."

"Yes, Captain."

Haggart laughs:

"I love to think how the cannon ball flies, Mariet. I love to watch its
invisible flight. If some one comes in its way--let him! Fate itself
strikes down like that. What is an aim? Only fools need an aim, while
the devil, closing his eyes, throws stones--the wise game is merrier
this way. But you are silent! What are you thinking of, Mariet?"

"I am thinking of them. I am forever thinking of them."

"Are yo