m already."

The expression of the girl's face changed in a flash and she sprang out
and caught one of his hands in both of hers.

"Kill him? Ye bain't meanin' to kill him, Denny Nolan?" she whispered.

"Aye, but I bes, curse or no curse," he said, dully. "To-morrow mornin'
I bes a-goin' to kill him--man to man, in fair fight."

"But for why, Denny?"

"For the girl."

"Bes ye lovin' her so desperate, Denny?"

"Nay, nay, lass, not now. But I wants her! An' she puts the name o'
beast on to me an' the nature o' beast into me, like a curse!"

"To-morrow? An' ye'll fight him fair, Denny?"

"Aye, to-morrow--man to man--wid empty hands!"

The girl turned and entered the house, and the skipper went up the path
at the back of the harbor and wandered over the snowy barrens for hours.
It was dusk when Bill Brennen found him.

"Skipper," said Bill, "the lads bes at it again. They wants to know when
ye'll make a trip to St. John's wid the jewels?--an' where the jewels
bes gone to, anyhow?"

"Jewels!" cried the skipper--"an' the entire crew o' 'em fair rotten wid
gold! I'll dig up the jewels from where we hid 'em an' t'row 'em into
their dirty faces--an' they kin carry 'em to St. John's an' sell 'em to
suit themselves, the squid!"

So he and Bill Brennen tramped off to the northward; and Mary Kavanagh
was aware of their going.

Mary was busy during their absence. She unearthed the necklace, and with
it and the key from behind the skipper's clock, made her way to the
store. It was dark by now, with stars in the sky and a breath of wind
from the south and south-by-west. The folks were all in their cabins,
save the skipper and Bill Brennen, who were digging the harbor's _cache_
of jewelry from the head of a thicket of spruce-tuck. She let herself
into the store and freed John Darling without striking a light. She
placed the casket in his hand.

"The skipper has yer pistols in his own pocket, so I couldn't git 'em
for ye," she whispered. "Now sneak up to the back, quick. Ye'll find yer
lass there, a-waitin' for ye wid old Mother Nolan. Git north to the
drook where yer man bes, an' lay down there, the three o' ye, till I
fetches yer bully. Then git out, an' keep out, for the love o' mercy!
Step lively, captain! The skipper bes out o' the harbor this minute, but
he bes a-comin' home soon. Get along wid ye quick, to the top o' the
cliff."

She left him before he had an opportunity to even try to thank her. He
followed h