e, her proud spirit
utterly broken, for the first time, by the terror of that great need,
and by a bitter loss. For in the struggle, the holy trumpet, companion
of all her wanderings, had fallen from her bosom; and her fond hope of
bringing magic prosperity to her English friends had sunk with it to the
bottom of the stream.

None heeded her; not even Amyas, round whose knees she clung, fawning
like a spaniel dog: for where was Yeo?

Another swirl; a shout from the canoe abreast of them, and Yeo rose,
having dived clean under his own boat, and risen between the two.

"Safe as yet, lads! Heave me a line, or he'll have me after all."

But ere the brute reappeared, the old man was safe on board.

"The Lord has stood by me," panted he, as he shot the water from his
ears. "We went down together: I knew the Indian trick, and being
upper-most, had my thumbs in his eyes before he could turn: but he
carried me down to the very mud. My breath was nigh gone, so I left go,
and struck up: but my toes tingled as I rose again, I'll warrant. There
the beggar is, looking for me, I declare!"

And true enough, there was the huge brute swimming slowly round and
round, in search of his lost victim. It was too dark to put an arrow
into his eye; so they paddled on, while Ayacanora crouched silently at
Amyas's feet.

"Yeo!" asked he, in a low voice, "what shall we do with her?"

"Why ask me, sir?" said the old man, as he had a very good right to ask.

"Because, when one don't know oneself, one had best inquire of one's
elders. Besides, you saved her life at the risk of your own, and have a
right to a voice in the matter, if any one has, old friend."

"Then, my dear young captain, if the Lord puts a precious soul under
your care, don't you refuse to bear the burden He lays on you."

Amyas was silent awhile; while Ayacanora, who was evidently utterly
exhausted by the night's adventure, and probably by long wanderings,
watchings, and weepings which had gone before it, sank with her head
against his knee, fell fast asleep, and breathed as gently as a child.

At last he rose in the canoe, and called Cary alongside.

"Listen to me, gentlemen, and sailors all. You know that we have a
maiden on board here, by no choice of our own. Whether she will be a
blessing to us, God alone can tell: but she may turn to the greatest
curse which has befallen us ever since we came out over Bar three years
ago. Promise me one thing, or I put her ashore