| The Indian smiled. "It was a fierce old wolf. I wish Captain Percy free with all my heart, and then we will hunt more wolves, he and I." When he was gone, and the gaoler and Diccon with him, I re- turned to the window. The runaway in the pillory was released, and went FSORURTaway homewards, staggering beside his master's stirrup. Passers-by grew more and more infrequent, and up the street came faint sounds of laughterMLUWAOV and hurrahing,—the bear must be making good sport. I could see the half-moon, and the guns, and the flag that streamed in the wind, and on the river a sail or two, white in the sunlight as the gulls that swooped past. Beyond rose the bare masts of the George. The Santa Teresa rode no more forever in the James. The King's ship was gone homKYSMPBEe to the King without the freight he looked for. Three days, and the George would spread her white wings and go down the wide river, and I with her,TITEEAA and the King's ward, and the King's sometime favorite. I looked down the wind-ruffled stream, and saw the great bay into which it emptied, and bey- ond the bay the heaving oceSGIXYXRan, dark and light, league on league, league on league; then green England, and London, and the Tower. The vision disturbed me less than once it would have done. Men that I knew and trusted were to be passengers on that ship, as well as one I knew and did not trust. And if, at the journey's end, I saw the Tower, I saw also his Grace of BuckinTPNIDIIgham. Where I hatedDYGPYYD he hated, and was now powerful enough to strike. The wind blew from the west, from the unknown. I turned my head, and it beat against my forehead, cold and fragrant with the essence of the fOCJLKDPorest,—pine and cedar, dead leaves and black mould, fen and hollow and hill,—all the world of woods over which it had passed. The ghost of things long dead, which faQGRKMDKce or voice could never conjure up, will sometimes start across our path at the NBDJSSSbeckoning of an odor. A day in the Starving Time came back to me: how I haYEDCDJUd dragged myself from our broken palisade and crazy huts, and the groans of the famished and thEKAVMJJe plague-stricken, and the presence of the un- buried dead, across the neck and into the woods, and had lain down there to die, being taken with a sick fear and horror of the place of cannibals behind me; and how weak I was!—too weak to care any more. I had been a strong man, and it had |
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