yer great
back, ye limb, though ye took him all suddant an' unawares? Sure, he
did! Kill him, then; an' 'twill be your own father's mother goes to St.
John's to bring the police to hang ye up by yer cowardly neck. Aye, ye
kin lay to that! What old Kate Nolan says she says, an' the divil
himself couldn't make a liar of her!"

"I thought ye was a man, Denny, an' fought like a man," said Mary
Kavanagh, in a low voice that shook with unuttered sobs; "but if ye
strikes him now, a-layin' there as harmless as a swile, then I'll know
ye for a coward an' a murderer."

The skipper looked down at Flora Lockhart, who knelt above Darling,
weeping bitterly. His black eyes glowed and his face twisted and paled.

"If it had bin meself hit the blow that downed him, then I'd be
finishin' him," he said, "but I don't kill where I don't down! I bain't
no coward, Mary Kavanagh, as well ye knows! Bes there any more o' the
likes of him a-sneakin' 'round me own harbor?"

"He come alone," said Mary. "He come alone, to find the girl ye've bin
hidin' an' holdin' in Chance Along till all her folks thinks she bes
dead."

"Sure, then, he found her," snarled the skipper, "an' little good 'twill
be doin' him!"

"Shame upon ye, Denny Nolan!" exclaimed the old woman. "Shame upon ye
an' yer lies an' yer wicked, silly heart that t'ought to keep the likes
o' her forever in Chance Along. Ye bain't able to fool old Kate Nolan
wid yer lies! Sure, wasn't I on to ye from the minute ye come home that
ye'd not bin to Witless Bay wid the letter? I seed the lie writ across
yer face, Denny Nolan. Shame upon ye to be tryin' to bury the poor
helpless girl alive!"

"Pick him up," said the skipper, sullenly. "There bes grub enough an' to
spare to feed him an' a hundred like him. Heave him up atween ye, men,
an' we'll be lockin' of him up in a safe place. Fetch along the lantern,
Cormy, lad."

John Darling opened his eyes at this moment, stared dizzily around him
and struggled up to one elbow.

"Flora!" he cried. "Flora, where are you?"

The girl tried to go to him, but the skipper held her. Bill Brennen
pressed the sailor back, and tied his wrists and ankles.

"Who carried the letter out to him?" demanded the skipper, gripping the
girl's shoulders with his great hands, and glaring down into her
colorless face. For answer, she wrenched herself away, and struck him a
stinging blow across the mouth with her right hand.

"How dare you?" she cried. "How dare