Black’erchief Dick followed him, the knife swinging lightly between his thumb and forefinger. Blueneck stood watching, his eyes fixed on the Spaniard in unholy fascination. Farther and farther back stepped the big sailor, Dick keeping always the same distance from him, until he reached the side of the boat. There he stayed, breathless with fear. Slowly the Spaniard came nearer and nearer to him, and the thin blue blade ceased to swing. “So thou wouldst teach that ‘drunken pirate’ that all men are not afraid of him? Eh? Is that so? The voice seemed to grow more caressing at every word and the big sailor’s eyes shut. Suddenly they opened again and looked down. “Look!” Dick was saying. “Look, Matthew, son of _Suffolk_ clay, see how fair my blade looks against thy fur-grown hide.” He tore at the guernsey and pulled it open, showing the great hairy chest beneath. The terrified sailor made one lunge forward, as though to grasp the lean brown throat, but he was too late. Swift as lightning the small white hand shot back and then forward, and the thin blue blade vanished in the wretched man’s body just over the collar-bone, cutting the jugular vein. The great body stiffened and then, gradually relaxing, dropped at the Spaniard’s feet. Blueneck stifled a cry and stepped forward. Slowly the Spaniard pulled out the steel, wiped it carefully on the brightly coloured sleeveless coat, then slipped it into his belt. “Over with the dog,” he said shortly to Blueneck, as he walked off quietly up the deck. Blueneck hailed one of the frightened crew who had watched the scene from the deck-house roof, and in silence the two lifted up all that was left of the great sailor and pushed it over the side. The body splashed in the green water and somewhere near a cormorant shrieked to his kind the news of fresh prey, and the ship, her sails bellying out to the wind, sped on toward the island. CHAPTER II “Anny.” “Ay, Hal.” “Do you love me, lass?” “Oh! now why will you keep plaguing me, Hal? How many times have I told you so on this same wall? You know I do.” “Can I kiss you again, then?” “Ay, Hal.” There was silence for a minute or so, and the gulls fishing for eels in the soft black mud came in closer to the shingle-strewn strip of beach, taking no notice of the two figures on the sea wall, so still they stood. “When we get married, lass”--the young voice sounded clearly in the quietness and the gulls flew screaming--“we might keep the Ship ourselves.” The girl at his side cut him short with a bitter little laugh. “Ay, Hal,” she said sadly, “when we get married--that’s a tremendous long way off, I’m thinking.” The boy put his arm round her waist unchecked. “I don’t know,” he said, and his voice sounded hopeful, “I don’t know, lass. Gilbot’s leaving the place in my hands more than ever, and who knows but what some day he’ll be handing it over to me altogether.”