e poison of that hound of hell is in me, and nothing for me but to say
my prayers. But listen you"--here he sat up again and plucked me by the
shoulder as I bent over his leg. "The freight is not gone, and good
reason for why: it was never landed!"

"Hey?" said I, incredulous.

"It was never landed. The men toiled as she ordered--Lord, how they
toiled! Without witch-craft they had never done the half of it. I tell
you they handled moonshine--wove sand. The riches they brought ashore
were emptiness; vain shows that already have turned to chips and straw
and rubbish. Nay, sir"--for I drew back before these ravings--"listen
for the love of God, before the poison gets hold of me! Soon it will be
too late. . . . The evening before we sailed from Dunquerque, we were
anchored out in the tide. It was my watch. I was leaning on the rail
of the poop when I caught sight of her first. She was running for her
life across the dunes--running for the waterside--she and her hound
beside her. Away behind her, like ants dotted over the rises of the
sand, were little figures running and pursuing. Down by the waterside
one boat was waiting, with a man in it--or the Devil belike--leaning on
his oars. She whistled; he pulled close in shore. She leapt into the
boat with the dog at her heels, and was half-way across towards our ship
before the first of those after her reached the water's edge. When she
hailed us I ran and fetched Affonzo the master. The rest I charge to
his folly. It was he who handed her up the ship's side. How the dog
came on board I know not: only that I leaned over the bulwarks to have a
look at him, but heard a pattering noise, and there he was on deck
behind me and close beside his mistress. The boat and rower had
vanished--under the ship's stern, as I supposed, but now I have my
doubts. I saw no more of them, anyhow.

"By this time Affonzo was reading her letter. The crowd by the water's
edge had found a boat at length--how, I know not; but it was a very
little one, holding but six men besides the one rower, and then
over-laden. They pulled towards us and hailed just as the lady took the
master's promise and went down to seek her cabin: and one of the men
stood up, a tall gentleman with a chain about his neck. Affonzo went to
the side to parley with him.

"The tall man with the chain cried out that he was mayor or provost--
I forget which--and the woman must be given up as a proved witch who