Black Bartlemys Treasure

"Doth your wound trouble you, Martin?"

"Nay, indeed," says I, shaking my head, "I am very well, I thank you!"

"Then wherefore sigh so deep and oft?"

"I am a vasty fool!"

"Are you, Martin--why?" But in place of answer I rose and, coming beside her, scowled to see the tender flesh of her arms all black and bruised: "What is this?" I demanded.

"Nought to matter!"

"Who did it?"

"You, Martin. In your raving you were very strong, mistaking me for the poor Spanish lady."

"O forgive me!" I cried, and stooping to this pretty arm would have touched my lips thereto for mere pity but checked myself, fearing to grieve her; perceiving this she comes a little nearer: "You may--an you so desire, Martin," says she, "though 'tis all floury!" So I kissed her arm, tenderly and very reverently, as it had been some holy thing (as indeed so I thought it).

"I'm glad 'twas I did this, comrade."

"Glad, Martin?"

"Aye! I had rather 'twas myself than yon evil rogues--nay forget them," says I, seeing her shiver, "plague on me for reminding you."

"Hush, Martin!"

"Why then, forget them--and I have their weapons to cope with 'em should they return."

"Now thank God!" cries she, clasping my hand in both of hers. "Thank God, Martin! I feared you had killed them all!"

"Why, I did my best," I sighed, shaking my head, "but they were too strong for me! Would to God I had indeed slain--"

"Hush, Martin, O hush!" And here she claps her pretty hand to my lips, where I straightway 'prisoned it to my kisses. "Though truly," says she the whiles this was a-doing, "from your raving I feared them all slain at your hand, so do I rejoice to know you innocent of their deaths!" Here, her hand released, she fell a-laughing (albeit a little tremulously) to see my face all patched with flour; and so, back to her labour.

"But, Martin," says she, turning to glance at me in a while, "You must be very terrible to drive away these four great men, and very brave!"

"Here was no bravery!" quoth I, "Methought you surely dead and I meant them to slay me also."

"Did you--miss me--so greatly?" she questioned and not looking at me.

"Yes!"

"You fought them in Skeleton Cove, beyond Deliverance, Martin?"

"Aye! You found their guns there?"

"And the sand all trampled and hatefully stained. 'Tis an evil place, Martin."

"And so it is!" says I. "But as to these weapons, there were two good firelocks I mind, and besides--"

"They are all here, Martin, guns and swords and pistols. You raved for them in your sickness so I fetched them while you slept. Though indeed you have no need of these, there be weapons of every sort in the Treasure cave, 'tis like an arsenal."