"Did I not lead them well?" she said, eagerly and gladly; "tell me--even _she_ could not have done it better! Ah! love, but this is passing sweet," she went on, more slowly and plaintively; "it is good to be held up thus, and to watch death coming to me so softly, almost sweetly. Dear, just say once that what I did was well done, and that no one at all could have done it better for you."
"None has ever done so much for me, none so given all for me, as you have done, Little Marie!" murmured Wat, his tears dropping down on the pale face of the girl--who, if she had sinned greatly, had also greatly loved.
"It is true, and I am glad," she said again, "even your love of loves herself could do no more than die for you!"
Her smile fixed itself. Her eyes grew hazier, but their long, still look stayed intently and happily upon Wat's face. Murmuring a prayer, he bent and kissed the fair brow that was now growing cold as marble. At the touch of his lips a light, as from a paradise beyond, flamed up for a moment in the girl's eyes. Her smile grew infinitely sweeter, and the rigid lines of pain about the mouth relaxed.
"My captain--O my captain!" she whispered, sweetly as a little child that closes its eyes and nestles into sleep upon a loving shoulder.
Kate McGhie was safe on board the _Sea Unicorn_, Captain Smith--a vessel English by ownership and manning, but which, for purposes which need not at this point be too closely defined, presently flew the Three Castles of the famous free city of Hamburg, though that fact would not materially have benefited any one on board had one of the British fleet from the Medway overhauled Captain Smith. For on board the _Sea Unicorn_ there was much contraband of war, clearly intended for the sustenance and equipment of the enemies of his Majesty King James, both in the West of England and also more particularly in Scotland.
As Kate was being taken up the side, she could hear above all the sea noises the voice of a man in angry monologue. Captain Zachariah Smith, of the good town of Poole, was exceedingly wrathful at the delay. But in spite of his anger the work of the deck went forward as well as it might on so small a vessel, when everything creaked and tumbled in the dancing jabble of the cross seas. For the wrath of Captain Smith for the most part passed off in angry words, and did not, as was usual in the merchant service of the time, very promptly materialize itself in the form of a handspike. There was considerable difficulty in getting the boat alongside on account of the swell, and Kate was handed up like a piece of delicate goods. The man upon whose saddle she had been carried held her up lightly poised on his hand, and as the side of the plunging ship descended and the boat lurched upward, simultaneously half a dozen arms, rough but not untender, were outstretched to receive her. In a moment more she found herself safe on the deck of the _Sea Unicorn_.