ppling irons cast loose, and a swiftly widening
ribbon of blue between us and the sinking ship, I looked at the pirates
thronging the waist below me, and knew that the play was nearly over.
How many days, weeks, hours, before the lights would go out, I could not
tell: they might burn until we took or lost another ship; the next hour
might see that brief tragedy consummated.

I turned, and going below met Sparrow at the foot of the poop ladder.

"I have sworn at these pirates until my hair stood on end," he said
ruefully. "God forgive me! And I have bent into circles three half pikes
in demonstration of the thing that would occur to them if they tempted
me overmuch. And I have sung them all the bloody and lascivious songs
that ever I knew in my unregenerate days. I have played the bravo
and buffoon until they gaped for wonder. I have damned myself to all
eternity, I fear, but there'll be no mutiny this fair day. It may arrive
by to-morrow, though."

"Likely enough," I said. "Come within. I have eaten nothing since
yesterday."

"I'll speak to Diccon first," he answered, and went on toward the
forecastle, while I entered the state cabin. Here I found Mistress Percy
kneeling beside the bench beneath the stern windows, her face buried in
her outstretched arms, her dark hair shadowing her like a mantle. When
I spoke to her she did not answer. With a sudden fear I stooped and
touched her clasped hands. A shudder ran through her frame, and she
slowly raised a colorless face.

"Are you come back?" she whispered. "I thought you would never come
back. I thought they had killed you. I was only praying before I killed
myself."

I took her hands and wrung them apart to rouse her, she was so white and
cold, and spoke so strangely. "God forbid that I should die yet awhile,
madam!" I said. "When I can no longer serve you, then I shall not care
how soon I die."

The eyes with which she gazed upon me were still wide and unseeing. "The
guns!" she cried, wresting her hands from mine and putting them to
her ears. "Oh, the guns! they shake the air. And the screams and the
trampling--the guns again!"

I brought her wine and made her drink it; then sat beside her, and told
her gently, over and over again, that there was no longer thunder of the
guns or screams or trampling. At last the long, tearless sobs ceased,
and she rose from her knees, and let me lead her to the door of her
cabin. There she thanked me softly, with downcast eyes