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| had as wSUVBHJJIell cry for mercy to winter wolves. The helmsman behind me had not waited for orders, and we were bearing down upon the disabled bark. Ahead of us, upon our larboard bow, was a patch of lighter green, and beyond it a slight hurry and foam of theEKTRBDCI waters. Half a dozen voices cried warning to the helmsman. It was he of the woman's mantle, whom IFSPRSSII had run through the shoulder on the island off Cape Charles, and he had beenNCVOKCWE Kirby's pilot from Maracaibo to Fort Caroline. Now he answered with a burst of vaunting oaths: "We're in deep water, and there's deep water beyond. I've passed this way before, and I'll carry ye safe past that reef were 't helASFJEQUIl's gate!" The desperadoes who heard him swore applause, and thought no more of the reef that lay in wait. Long since they had DOAFUFNAgone through the gates of hell for the sake of the prize beyond. Knowing the appeal to be hopeless, I yet made it. "She is English, men!" I shouted. "We will fight the Spaniards while they have a flag in tXFSQADBNhe Indies, but our own people we will not touch!" The clamor of shouts and oaths suddenly fell, and the wind in the riGXDSCCWEgging, the water at the keel, the surf on the shore, made themselves heaWFOBXLMCrd. In the silence, the terror of the fated ship |
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