e him."

"To windward of us, as likely as not," said Amyas. "The devil fights
for him, I believe. To have been on his heels sixteen days, and not sent
this through him yet!" And he shook his sword impatiently.

So the morning wore away, without a sign of living thing, not even a
passing gull; and the black melancholy of the heaven reflected itself
in the black melancholy of Amyas. Was he to lose his prey after all?
The thought made him shudder with rage and disappointment. It was
intolerable. Anything but that.

"No, God!" he cried, "let me but once feel this in his accursed heart,
and then--strike me dead, if Thou wilt!"

"The Lord have mercy on us," cried John Brimblecombe. "What have you
said?"

"What is that to you, sir? There, they are piping to dinner. Go down. I
shall not come."

And Jack went down, and talked in a half-terrified whisper of Amyas's
ominous words.

All thought that they portended some bad luck, except old Yeo.

"Well, Sir John," said he, "and why not? What better can the Lord do
for a man, than take him home when he has done his work? Our captain is
wilful and spiteful, and must needs kill his man himself; while for me,
I don't care how the Don goes, provided he does go. I owe him no grudge,
nor any man. May the Lord give him repentance, and forgive him all his
sins: but if I could but see him once safe ashore, as he may be ere
nightfall, on the Mortestone or the back of Lundy, I would say, 'Lord,
now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace,' even if it were the
lightning which was sent to fetch me."

"But, master Yeo, a sudden death?"

"And why not a sudden death, Sir John? Even fools long for a short life
and a merry one, and shall not the Lord's people pray for a short death
and a merry one? Let it come as it will to old Yeo. Hark! there's the
captain's voice!"

"Here she is!" thundered Amyas from the deck; and in an instant all were
scrambling up the hatchway as fast as the frantic rolling of the ship
would let them.

Yes. There she was. The cloud had lifted suddenly, and to the south a
ragged bore of blue sky let a long stream of sunshine down on her tall
masts and stately hull, as she lay rolling some four or five miles to
the eastward: but as for land, none was to be seen.

"There she is; and here we are," said Cary; "but where is here? and
where is there? How is the tide, master?"

"Running up Channel by this time, sir."

"What matters the tide?" said Amyas, devouring