I would forego my vengeance and all
thought thereof, forgetting past wrongs in the wonder of her love.
But, even as I stood hesitating, she waved her hand in farewell and was
gone into the cave.

CHAPTER XLIII

OF THE DEATH-DANCE OF THE SILVER WOMAN

A small wind had sprung up that came in fitful gusts and with sound
very mournful and desolate, but the moon was wonderfully bright and,
though I went cautiously, my hand on the butt of the pistol in my
girdle, yet ever and always at the back of my mind was an infinitude of
joy by reason of my dear lady's love for me and the wonder of it.

I chose me a devious course, avoiding the white sands of Deliverance
Beach, trending towards that fatal cleft hard by Bartlemy's tree (the
which we had come to call Skeleton Cove) though why I must go hither I
knew no more then than I do now.

Thus went I (my eyes and ears on the stretch) pondering what manner of
man this should be who sang words the which had so haunted my sick
dreams; more than once I stopped to stare round about me upon the wide
expanse of ocean, dreading and half expecting to behold the loom of
that black craft had dogged us over seas.

Full of these disquieting thoughts I reached the cove and began to
descend the steep side, following goat-tracks long grown familiar. The
place hereabouts was honeycombed with small caves and with ledges
screened by bushes and tangled vines; and here, well hid from
observation, I paused to look about me. But (and all in a moment) I
was down on my knees, for from somewhere close by came the sharp
snapping of a dried stick beneath a stealthy foot.

Very still I waited, every nerve a-tingle, and then, forth into the
moonlight, sudden and silent as death, a man crept; and verily if ever
murderous death stood in human shape it was before me now. The man
stood half-crouching, his head twisted back over his shoulder as
watching one who followed; beneath the vivid scarf that swathed his
temples was a shock of red hair and upon his cheek the sweat was
glittering; then he turned his head and I knew him for the man Red
Andy, that same I had fought aboard ship. For a long moment he stood
thus, staring back ever and anon across Deliverance, and so comes
creeping into the shadow of the cliff, and I saw the moon glint on the
barrel of the long pistol he clutched, as, sinking down behind a great
boulder, he waited there upon his knees.

Now suddenly as I lay there watching Red Andy'