fresh water, when I heard
a shriek in the distance. 'Let's go there!' I said to my companions,
'we'll help if there is need'; and seizing our guns we rushed toward the
sound. Three young girls came from behind the hill, pursued by three
hundred negroes. The black rascals, shouting and yelling, were fast
gaining upon them. The girls could not run fast enough, for they were
dragging a large armchair in which sat an old woman. 'Fire!' I shouted,
and we sent a volley among the black devils. They scattered, and before
they could gather again, we had seized the poor hunted women and rushed
to our boats with them. The beautiful girl was as light as a bird, I can
tell you. I could have carried her in my arms to the ends of the earth."

"Go on," whispered Barthelemy in an almost unintelligible tone.

"Aha, you are interested in hearing of a beautiful girl? And she thought
of you, too, but how? She wrote the song about you, which is not
particularly flattering. It seems she had a lover, who had gone on a
long voyage and, as she was constantly afraid you would do the poor
fellow some mischief, she added whenever she prayed for him the entreaty
that God would sink Robert Barthelemy in the depths of the sea. Poor
girl, how she loved that man! She asked every sailor we met if he had
seen the ship on which William went. My heart ached for her. I left her
in Dublin. I don't know whether she has found her lover."

Barthelemy's face had gradually blanched to a corpse-like pallor, his
eyes were fixed on vacancy and a strange smile rested on his ghastly
face.

"See how the captain is smiling, he has gone crazy!" whispered the
pirates, starting up in alarm.

"What has happened to you?" exclaimed Hill, striking Barthelemy on the
shoulder. The latter started at the touch, and a look of profound,
unutterable sadness drove the smile from his face.

Rising from the table, he grasped Hill by the hand, drew him aside,
slipped his arm into his, and walking forward to the bow of the ship,
said in a stifled voice:

"Captain, this is the last day of my life! I feel, I know it. You must
not ask why. That is my own affair. The pirate has his superstitions as
well as the rest of the world. The sailor knows that he is doomed when
he meets the spectre of the sea. My soul has such a spectre, and I
encountered it to-day. I know not how or where, but I shall fall. In the
hold of the captured King Solomon there are ten thousand pounds sterling
in gold