ing me his hand, "In with ye man--"

"Not I, Adam."

"Why, what now, comrade?" says he, staring.

"Now--my hand, Adam, and a prosperous voyage!"

"How, comrade, will ye stay marooned in this desolation?" and he
stooped to peer down at me. "Martin," says he, gripping my hand and
staring into my eyes, "Doth this mean you are safer here by reason of
the mystery of Sir Rupert's sudden end?"

"Mayhap!" says I, and loosed his hand. "What think you?"

"That you are no murderer, comrade, nor ever will be!"

"My lady said as much once! Farewell, Adam!" And I waded back to the
beach.

"Give way, lads!" cries he, "Give way!" I heard the splash and beat of
their oars, and when I turned to look I saw them half-way across the
lagoon.

Then I turned and wandered aimlessly along these white sands that had
known so often the light tread of her pretty feet. Very slowly I went,
with eyes that saw not, ears that heard not and my mind a confusion of
bitter thoughts.

At last I reached the little plateau, and from this eminence beheld the
ship standing away under a press of sail, and saw that night was at
hand. Suddenly as I watched, the ship, her lofty masts and gleaming
canvas swam all blurred and misty on my sight, and sinking to my knees
I bowed my head.

"Almighty God!" says I, "Thou hast shown unto me the wonder of love and
the heaven it might have been, but since love is not for me, teach me
how I may be avenged."

But now, even as I prayed thus, my voice brake upon a great sob
insomuch that I might pray no more. Therefore I cast myself upon my
face, forgetting all things but my great and bitter loneliness.

And so came night and shut me in.

* * *

Here then I make an end of this narrative of Black Bartlemy's Treasure,
but how and in what manner I came to my vengeance is yet to tell.

End of Project Gutenberg's Black Bartlemy's Treasure, by Jeffrey Farnol

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