Black Bartlemys Treasure

"Mayhap!"

"Indeed, these are wonderful caves, Martin."

"They are."

"Who lived here before us, I wonder?"

"Penfeather, like as not."

"Why should you think this?"

"Well, that door yonder was never a carpenter's work, yet 'tis well made and furnished with a loop-hole, narrow and horizontal to give a lateral fire, the which I have seen but once ere this. Then again the timbers of this door do carry many marks of shot, and Adam Penfeather is no stranger to such, violence and danger, steel and bullet seem to follow him."

"Why so, Martin? He hath ever seemed a man very quiet and gentle, most unlike such rough sailor-men as I have seen hitherto."

"True," says I, "but 'neath this attitude of mind is a wily cunning and desperate, bloodthirsty courage and determination worthy any pirate or buccaneer of them all."

"Why, courage and determination are good things, Martin. And as for Master Penfeather, he is as I do know a skilful navigator and very well read, more especially in the Scriptures, and methought your friend?"

"For his own purposes!" quoth I.

"And what are these, Martin?"

At this I merely scowled at the wood I was carving, whereupon she questions me further: "Master Adam is such a grave and sober man!"

"True!" says I.

"And so wise in counsel--"

"Say, rather, cunning!"

"Though to be sure he once had a poor man beaten cruelly."

"Wherein he was exactly right!" says I, grinding my teeth at memory of Red Andy. "Aye, there Penfeather was very right, this fellow was a vile and beastly rogue!"

"What dreadful thing had he done, Martin?"

"Stared at you!" says I, and stopped; and glancing up, found her regarding me with look mighty strange.

"Did you mind so much?" she questioned.

"No whit, madam. Why should I?"

"Aye, why indeed!" says she and turns to her cooking again and I to my carving, yet in a little, hearing her gasp, I glanced up to find her nigh stifled with her laughter.

"Ha, why must ye laugh, madam?" I demanded.

"O Martin!" says she, "And must this poor man be whipped--and for a mere look? And you so fierce withal! I fear there be many men do merit whipping if this be sin so great."

"I see no reason in your laughter, my lady!" quoth I, scowling up at her.

"Because you have no gift of laughter, my lord!" says she, and turns her back on me.

Here I came nigh to tossing her half-finished hairpin into the fire; but seeing her turn her head, carved on for very shame.

"And are you so very angry, Martin?" I bent to sharpen my knife. "I would that you might laugh yourself--once in a while, Martin." I tested my knife on my thumb. "You are always so grave, Martin, so very solemn and young!" Finding my knife still blunt, I went on sharpening it. Here and all suddenly she was beside me on her knees and clasps my knife-hand in hers. "Indeed I had no thought to anger you. Are you truly angered or is it only that you are so very--hungry?" Now here I glanced at her and beholding all the roguish mischief in her eyes, try how I might, I could not but smile too.