sir needs must this your cook-maid go bedight like any queen
since nought is there in Black Bartlemy's Treasure that is not
sumptuous and splendid. Have you no desire to behold these wonders for
yourself?"

"Not a tittle!" says I.

"But, Martin, three months are nigh sped and Master Penfeather not
come, and according to his letter, three-quarters of this great
treasure is yours."

"Why then, my lady, I do freely bestow it on you."

"Nay, this have I taken already because I needed it, look!" So saying
she drew a comb from her hair and showed me how it was all fashioned of
wrought gold and set with great gems, pearls and sapphires and rubies
marvellous to see.

"'Tis mighty handsome," quoth I, "and beyond price, I judge."

"And yet," says she, "I would rather have my wooden pin in its stead,
for surely there was none like to it in all this world."

Hereupon, groping in my pocket I brought out that three-pronged pin I
had carved for her; beholding which, she uttered a little cry of glad
surprise, and letting fall her golden comb, took the pin to turn it
this way and that, viewing it as it had been the very wonder of the
world rather than the poor thing it was.

"Why, Martin!" says she at last, "Why, Martin, where found you this?"
So I told her; and though my words were lame and halting I think she
guessed somewhat of the agony of that hour, for I felt her hand touch
my shoulder like a caress.

"Death's shadow hath been over us of late, Martin," says she, "and hath
made us wiser methinks."

"Death?" says I, "'Tis mayhap but the beginning of a greater life
wherein shall be no more partings, I pray."

"'Tis a sweet thought, Martin!"

"And you have never feared death!" says I.

"Aye, but I do, Martin--I do!" cries she. "I am grown craven these
days, mayhap--"

"Yet you sought death."

"Because there was no other way, Martin. But when Death clutched at me
from those black depths I agonised for life."

"Is life then--become so--sweet to you, Damaris?"

"Yes, Martin!" says she softly.

"Since when?" I questioned, "Since when?" But instead of answering she
falls a-singing softly and keeping her back to me; thus I saw that she
had set the pin back in her hair, whereat I grew all suddenly and
beyond reason glad. Though indeed the thing accorded but ill with her
fine gown, as I told her forthwith.

"Think you so, Martin?" says she gravely, but with a dimple in her
cheek.

"I do! 'Tis manifestly out