e black ship ran foul of us.

"Lord!" says Adam at last. "So the mystery is resolved! The matter
lies plain as a pikestaff. Ha, Martin, we've shipped the devil aboard
it seems!"

"Who weareth a steel hook, Adam!"

"And yet, Martin, and yet," says he, looking at me from the corners of
his eyes, "herein, if we seek far enough, we may find the hand of
Providence, I think--"

"How?" says I. "Providence, d'ye call it?"

"Aye, Martin--if we do but seek far enough!" Here he turned in answer
to a furtive rapping, and opening the door, I heard Godby's voice.
"Come in, man, come in," says Adam, "here's only Martin."

"Aye," quoth I heartily, "come in, God-be-here Jenkins that was my
friend." At this in he comes unwillingly enough and with never so much
as a glance in my direction.

"Here's the wittles, Cap'n," says he, and setting down the food and
drink he had brought, turned away.

"What, Godby, ha' ye no word for a poor murderer in his abasement?"
says I. Whereat he shakes his head mighty gloomy and keeping his gaze
averted. As for Adam he stood pinching his chin the while his quick,
bright eyes darted from one to other of us.

"How, are ye going and never a word?" quoth I as Godby crossed to the
door.

"Aye, I am!" says he, with gaze still averted.

"Why you left me in mighty hurry last time, Godby,"

"Aye, I did!" says he.

"Why then tell us wherefore--speak out, man."

"Not I, Martin, not I!" says he, and touching his bonnet to Penfeather
hasted away.

"Ha!" says Adam, closing and locking the door. "And what's the riddle,
Martin?"

"My doublet. Godby, chancing to take it up, finds it all a-smear with
blood and incontinent suspects me for this black murderer, which comes
hard since here's an end of Godby's faith and my friendship."

"Why look now, Martin, his suspicions are in reason seeing that what
with drugs, deviltries and what not, you've been mighty strange o' late
and more unlovely company than usual, d'ye see!"

"Howbeit!" says I, scowling and reaching for the food, "Here's an end
to my friendship for Godby. Now as to you--what d'you say?"

"I think, shipmate, that your doublet bloody and you the grimly,
desperate, gallowsy, hell-fire rogue you strive so hard to appear,
Martin, I say here's enough to hang you ten times over. One thing is
sure, you must leave this ship."

"Not I, Adam!"

"The long-boat's astern, victualled and ready."

"No matter!" says I.

"'Twill be no hard