ainst the rope that bit into
the flesh of me, I felt the rope fall away, felt two soft arms close
about me and a soft breath on my cheek:

"Martin--O thank God!" Turning, I caught my dear, brave lady to my
heart. Heedless of aught else in the world beside I clasped her in my
aching arms, and kissed her until she stayed me and showing me where
stood our enemies, a wild disordered company, took my hand and began to
run. Reaching the cliff we climbed together nor stayed until she had
brought me to a little cave where lay an arquebus together with
bandoliers. "I tried to reload it, dear Martin, but 'twas vain--my
poor, silly hands shook so. For, O my dear, I--heard them--saw them
and--thought I should run mad--O Martin my love!"

So now whiles I loaded the arquebus I told her as well as I might
something of what I thought concerning her brave spirit, of my undying
love for her, though in fashion very lame and halting. Thereafter, the
weapon being ready I placed it near and, sitting within the gloom of
this little cave, I took my love into my arms, her dear head pillowed
on my breast, and kissed the tremors from her sweet mouth and the
horror from her eyes. And thus with her arms about my neck and her
soft, smooth cheek against mine, we waited for what was to be.

CHAPTER XLV

OF THE COMING OF ADAM PENFEATHER

In the shadow of the cliff below our hiding-place crept divers of these
pirate rogues, and, crouching there cheek by jowl fell to a hoarse
mutter of talk yet all too low for us to catch; but presently there
brake out a voice high-pitched, the which I knew for that of Smiling
Sam.

"We'm done, lads, I tell ye. O love my lights--we'm done! 'Tis the
end o' we since Penfeather hath took the ship--and here's us shall lie
marooned to perish o' plagues, or Indian-savages, or hunger unless,
lads, unless--"

"Unless what, Smiler?" questioned one, eagerly.

"Unless we'm up and doing. Penfeather do lack for men--Mings says he
counted but ten at most when they boarded him! Well, mates--what d'ye
say?"

"Ha, d'ye mean fight, Smiler? Fall on 'em by surprise and recapture
the ship--ha?"

"O bless my guts--no! Penfeather aren't to be caught so--not him!
He'll ha' warped out from the anchorage by this! But he be shorthanded
to work the vessel overseas, 'tis a-seekin' o' likely lads and prime
sailor-men is Penfeather, and we sits on these yere sands. Well,
mates, on these yere sands we be but what's took