t for the first
and last time, and I fell down on my sinful knees and wept and prayed by
him?"

"I am not given to weeping, Mr. Salterne," said Amyas; "and as for
praying, I don't know yet what I have to pray for, on her account: my
business is to work. Show me what I can do; and when you have done that,
it will be full time to upbraid me with not doing it."

"You can cut that fellow's throat."

"It will take a long arm to reach him."

"I suppose it is as easy to sail to the Spanish Main as it was to sail
round the world."

"My good sir," said Amyas, "I have at this moment no more worldly goods
than my clothes and my sword, so how to sail to the Spanish Main, I
don't quite see."

"And do you suppose, sir, that I should hint to you of such a voyage if
I meant you to be at the charge of it? No, sir; if you want two thousand
pounds, or five, to fit a ship, take it! Take it, sir! I hoarded money
for my child: and now I will spend it to avenge her."

Amyas was silent for a while; the old man still held his arm, still
looked up steadfastly and fiercely in his face.

"Bring me home that man's head, and take ship, prizes--all! Keep the
gain, sir, and give me the revenge!"

"Gain? Do you think I need bribing, sir? What kept me silent was the
thought of my mother. I dare not go without her leave."

Salterne made a gesture of impatience.

"I dare not, sir; I must obey my parent, whatever else I do."

"Humph!" said he. "If others had obeyed theirs as well!--But you are
right, Captain Leigh, right. You will prosper, whoever else does not.
Now, sir, good-night, if you will let me be the first to say so. My old
eyes grow heavy early now-a-days. Perhaps it's old age, perhaps it's
sorrow."

So Amyas departed to the inn, and there, to his great joy, found Cary
waiting for him, from whom he learnt details, which must be kept for
another chapter, and which I shall tell, for convenience' sake, in my
own words and not in his.

CHAPTER XV

HOW MR. JOHN BRIMBLECOMBE UNDERSTOOD THE NATURE OF AN OATH

"The Kynge of Spayn is a foul paynim,
And lieveth on Mahound;
And pity it were that lady fayre
Should marry a heathen hound."

Kyng Estmere.

About six weeks after the duel, the miller at Stow had come up to
the great house in much tribulation, to borrow the bloodhounds. Rose
Salterne had vanished in the night, no man knew whither.

Sir Richard was in Bideford: but the ol