Martin Conisby

"How is she heading, Martin?"

"Southwesterly, I make it, which should bring her close upon us mighty soon, if the wind hold." And passing Sir Richard the glass, I sat staring on this distant ship in no little apprehension, since I judged most vessels that plied hereabouts could be but one of two sorts, viz: pirates or Spaniards.

"She is a great ship, Martin, and by her cut I think Spanish."

"I had liefer she were a pirate!" said I, scowling.

"Your wish may be granted soon enough, for she is going free and much wind astern of her."

Now whiles Sir Richard watched this oncoming vessel, I took up Don Federigo's sword, and, struck by its beauty, began to examine it as I had not done hitherto. And indeed a very noble weapon it was, the hilt of rare craftsmanship, being silver cunningly inlaid with gold, long and narrow in the blade, whereon, graven in old Spanish, I saw the legend: TRUST IN GOD AND ME.

A most excellent weapon, quick in the hand by reason of its marvellous poise and balance. But looking upon this, I must needs remember him that had given it and bethinking me how he had plucked me forth from the horror of death and worse, I raised my head to scowl again upon the oncoming ship, and with teeth hard-set vowed within myself that no power should drag me a living man back to the terrors of dungeon and torment. And now as I crouched thus, scowling on the ship, the naked sword across my knees, Sir Richard called to me: "She is Spanish-built beyond all doubting and whoever chance to be aboard, they've seen us," said he, setting by the glass. "Come now, let us take counsel whether to go about, hold on, or adventure running ashore, the which were desperate risk by the look of things--"

"Let us stand on so long as we may," quoth I, "for if the worst come, we have always this," and reaching a pistol, I laid it on the thwart beside me.

"Nay, Martin," said he, his hand on my shoulder, "first let us do all we may to live, trusting in God Who hath saved and delivered us thus far. We have arms to our defence and I can still pull trigger at a pinch, or at extremity we may run ashore and contrive to land, though 'tis an evil coast as you may see and I, alack! am a better traveller sitting thus than afoot. As to dying, Martin, if it must be so, why then let us choose our own fashion, for as Sir Richard Grenville hath it, 'better fall into the hands of God than into the claws of Spain!"