me
to her level I must needs drag her down to mine. She, wedding me, gave
all, whiles I, taking all, had nought to offer in return save my
unworthiness. Verily it seemed that my hopes of life with her in
England were but empty dreams, that I had been living in the very
Paradise of Fools unless--

Here I raised bowed head, and clenching my fists stared blindly before
me.

How if the ship should sail without us?

CHAPTER XLVII

HOW MY DOUBTING WAS RESOLVED FOR ME

The sun being high-risen and myself famished with hunger, I set off for
our habitation by paths well-hid from observation and yearning mightily
to find my lady there. Having scaled the cliff I reached the little
plateau, and parting the bushes, recoiled from the muzzle of a piece
levelled at me by a squat, grim fellow.

"What, Godby!" says I, frowning, "D'ye take me for murderer still,
then?" At this he let fall his musket in blank amaze, and then came
running and with hands outstretched.

"O pal!" cries he, "O pal--have I found ye at last? Ha, many's the
time I've grieved for ye and my fool's doubts o' you, Martin, choke me
else? I'm sorry, pal, burn me but I've repented my suspecting o' you
ever since, though to be sure you was mighty strange aboard the
'Faithful Friend' and small wonder. But here's me full o' repentance,
Martin, so--if you can forgive poor Godby--?"

"Full and freely!" says I, whereupon he hugs me and the tears running
down his sunburned cheeks.

"Then we'm pals again, Martin, and all's bowmon!"

"And what o' me?" Turning about I beheld Adam on the threshold of the
cave, "What o' me, shipmate?"

"Aye--what?" says I, folding my arms.

"Ha, doth the tap o' my pistol-butt smart yet, Martin?"

"I know you beyond all doubt for pirate and buccaneer--"

"All past and done, Martin."

"I know you planned from the first to seize the 'Faithful Friend.'"

"Aye, but where's your proof--the 'Faithful Friend' is blown up--"

"And by your hand, like as not."

"True again, so it was, Martin, and thereby did I outwit Tressady and
saved the lives of my own people."

"You have been at great pains to befool me to your evil ends."

"At no pains, Martin, 'twas purely simple matter!"

"You have been the death of divers men on this island."

"But always in fair fight!" says he, glancing at me in his furtive
fashion. "'Twas them or me, comrade, and black rogues all."

"So you say!"

"And who's to deny it, shipmate?"

"Aye,