The unfortunate man continued praying and exclaiming, until nature
became almost exhausted, and he sat opposite the aperture, his eyes
fixed on the heavens, from which the light was once more rapidly
receding.
"If the villain willed my death, why not exterminate me at once?" he
thought; and then he prayed again; and as his fervour increased, the
door opened, and, by the dim light that entered his cell, he discovered
the figure of a tall stalwart man, who was in the middle of the chamber
before he perceived that a living being occupied any portion of it.
"The Lord has heard!--the Lord has answered! the Lord has delivered!"
exclaimed the preacher, springing on his feet with astonishing agility;
then going up closely to his deliverer, he scanned his features with an
earnest eye, and continued, "It is not the chief of cunning, art, and
bloodshed, albeit one who appears skilled in the habits of warlike
people. Friend, my inward man doth greatly suffer from long abstinence,
seeing I have not tasted any thing but a fragment of bitter orange in a
state of decomposition, to which I should soon have been reduced myself
but for thy timely arrival! Behold, I have been compelled to tarry here
a prisoner for the space of thirty-six hours, computing by the rising of
the sun and the setting thereof.--Art thou a friend to Sir Willmott
Burrell?"
"D--n him!" replied the stranger with a startling earnestness that left
no doubt of his sincerity, at the same time returning to his belt the
pistol he had drawn forth at the sight of a stranger in one of the most
secret apartments of the Crag.
"Friend!" exclaimed the poor preacher, greatly offended, despite his
hunger, at the man's unblushing profaneness, "I cannot commune with thee
if thou art of the household of evil-speakers: it is not in thy power to
set the mark of destruction on any, though, doubtless, that evil man is
in danger of hell-fire. I like not to seem as caring for the creature,
but the Creator hath given the things of earth for man's support--hast
thou food?"
"Follow me," was the brief reply; and Fleetword did follow as quickly as
his exhausted state permitted, to the large vaulted room in which we
have heretofore encountered the Buccaneer.
Hugh Dalton, for he it was who had so unexpectedly, but so fortunately,
broken in upon the dreary solitude of the preacher, pointed to a rude
table, upon which stood fragments of a substantial meal: these Fleetword
immediately attacked, while the Skipper re-ascended the stairs, down
which he had conducted his unlooked-for guest, and disappeared. When the
worthy man had satisfied his hunger, he glanced from flagon to flagon,
piled one over another upon the floor.