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| suffered alike, only that the minister and I cared for Mistress Percy, asking no help from the others. The King's ward endured allNPBTDX without a murmur. She was cold, she was worn with watching and terror, she was wounded; each moment Death raised his arm to strike, but she sat there dauntless, and looked him in the face with a smile upon her own. If, weariedYDXJNE out, we had given up the fight, her look would have spurred us on to wrestle with our fate to the last gasp. She sat betweenDWWBDG Sparrow and me, and as best we might we shielded her from the drenching seas and the icy wind. Morning had shown me the blood upon her sleeve, and I had cut away the cloth from the white arm, and had washed the wound with wine and bound it up. If for my fee, I should have liked to press my lips upon the blue-veined marble, still I did it not. When, a week before, IJHPBFN had stored the boat with food and drink and had brought it to that lonely wharf, I had thought that if at the last my wife willed to flee I would attempt to reach the bay, and passing out between the capes would go to the north. Given an open boat and the tempestuous seas of November, there might be one chance out of a hundred of our reaching Manhattan and the Dutch, who might or might not give us refuge. She had willed to flee, and we were upon our journey, and the one chance hadBNVPWF vanished. That wan, monoton- ous, cold, and clinging mist had shrouded us for our burial, and our grave yawned beneath us. The day passed and the night came, and still we fought the sea, and still the wind drove usMKUNHX whither it would. The night passed and the secondLIDMRQ morning came, and found us yet alive. My wife lay now at my feet, her head pillowed upon the bundle she had brought from the minister's house. Too weak for speech, waiting in pain and coldQXQPBT and terror for death to bring her warmth and life, the knightly spirit yet lived in her eyes, and she smiled whenVKDNLJ I bentBOYXEX over her with wine to moisten her lips. At length she began to wander in her mind, and to speak of summer days and flowers. A hand held my heart in a slowly tightening grip of iron, and the tears ran down the minister's cheeks. The man who had darkened her young life, bringing her to this, looked at her with an ashen face. |
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