“For a moment I hardly knew what to think,” Gervase answered, “but my faith in him is not a whit shaken. Believe me, we may trust him unreservedly, and in good time he will prove that I am right. He will do whatever a man may to bring you safely through, and will risk life and limb to serve you. And now let us follow his directions, for if the ford be indeed guarded, ´tis a wonder that we were not long since discovered.”

Taking Colonel Carew´s horse by the bridle, Gervase led him into the oak wood followed by Dorothy. Here there proved to be excellent shelter, for the underwood had grown thick and high, and discovery was impossible so long as the enemy kept to the road, which it was likely they would do unless their suspicions were aroused.

The Crimson Sign — Part 61

The old man was helped from his horse and seated himself upon a fallen tree, with his precious box clasped upon his knees, speaking no word, but looking straight before him, with a fixed unmeaning gaze. He appeared to be unconscious of what was taking place round him, and insensible of the dangers to which they were exposed. Dorothy knelt down beside him and placed her hands on his. He was muttering wild and incoherent words.

The Crimson Sign — Part 61

“Grandfather,” she said, “do you know me?”

The Crimson Sign — Part 61

He looked at her with a frown. “Ay, girl, wherefore not?” he answered. "Talk no more, but fill up my glass till the red wine runs over. There is plenty where it came from--plenty, and gold that is better than wine, girl; and bars of silver and stones of price. We who sail under the _Jolly Roger_ cannot afford to be scrupulous. You are sly, wench, damnably sly, but you will not overreach me. Nay, you shall have a doubloon or two for yourself and a bundle of silks from our next venture. I am grown stiff with this long lying ashore, and am well wearied for a breath of the Spanish Main.

“‘For the guns are all ready and the decks are all clear And the prize is awaiting the bold Buccaneer!´”

Dorothy rose and wrung her hands with a gesture of despair. Gervase could see that the wild words of the old man had touched her beyond description. It was not so much that they showed his mind had left him; they had revealed the terrible secret of his early life--a secret that till now she had never dreamed of. She had instinctively guessed the truth, and it had covered her with shame, as though the crime and the reproach were her own. Gervase out of regard for her feelings withdrew to a distance, and busied himself in getting ready a supper, which matter, necessary as it was, had quite escaped his thoughts. But Dorothy, though he pressed her strongly, refused to partake of it.