mblecombe, whose gait and voice she openly mimicked
for the edification of the men; but also to Will Cary, whom she never
allowed to speak to her or approach her. Perhaps she was jealous of his
intimacy with Amyas; or perhaps, with the subtle instinct of a woman,
she knew that he was the only other man on board who might dare to make
love to her (though Will, to do him justice, was as guiltless of any
such intention as Amyas himself). But when she was remonstrated with,
her only answer was that Cary was a cacique as well as Amyas, and that
there ought not to be two caciques; and one day she actually proposed to
Amyas to kill his supposed rival, and take the ship all to himself;
and sulked for several days at hearing Amyas, amid shouts of laughter,
retail her precious advice to its intended victim.

Moreover, the negroes came in for their share, being regarded all along
by her with an unspeakable repugnance, which showed itself at first in
hiding from them whenever she could, and, afterwards, in throwing at
them everything she could lay hands on, till the poor Quashies, in
danger of their lives, complained to Amyas, and got rest for awhile.

Over the rest of the sailors she lorded it like a very princess, calling
them from their work to run on her errands and make toys for her,
enforcing her commands now and then by a shrewd box on the ears; while
the good fellows, especially old Yeo, like true sailors, petted her,
obeyed her, even jested with her, much as they might have done with a
tame leopard, whose claws might be unsheathed and about their ears at
any moment. But she amused them, and amused Amyas too. They must of
course have a pet; and what prettier one could they have? And as for
Amyas, the constant interest of her presence, even the constant
anxiety of her wilfulness, kept his mind busy, and drove out many a sad
foreboding about that meeting with his mother, and the tragedy which
he had to tell her, which would otherwise, so heavily did they weigh on
him, have crushed his spirit with melancholy, and made all his worldly
success and marvellous deliverance worthless in his eyes.

At last the matter, as most things luckily do, came to a climax; and it
came in this way.

The ship had been slipping along now for many a day, slowly but steadily
before a favorable breeze. She had passed the ring of the West India
islands, and was now crawling, safe from all pursuit, through the vast
weed-beds of the Sargasso Sea. The