"What!" he cried. "Oh, no! no! no! You must live to bless me with your love!" "Live to disgrace you with my love!" "Mary!" There was such a depth of love, such intensity in the tone in which he uttered her name, that she moaned aloud. "Ah, you are in pain!" he cried. "In pain for you," she whispered, "for you suffer for my sake. Hist! Do you hear?" She clung to him tightly. "No," he said, "there is nothing." "Yes," she said, softly. "Steps. I can hear them--they are coming back." He listened once more, but his ears were wanting in the preternatural keenness brought on by his companion's exalted nerves. He heard nothing for a few moments, and then with a start he seized the sword, for steps were faintly heard now to grow plainer and plainer till they were close overhead. Mary signed to him to listen; and at that moment the stone slab moved gently a few inches, for someone had seated himself upon the edge, and the buzz of talking was heard. "Now, my lad," cried a hoarse, drink-engendered voice, which came plainly to where they crouched, "you know all about it, and I'm captain now. Where's that prisoner?" "Sure, and how could I know anny way, Black Mazzard?" "Captain Mazzard!" roared the first speaker. "Oh! Murther! Put them pishtols away, and I'll call ye captain, or adhmiral if ye like!" "No fooling! Where is that prisoner?" "Which one, sor?" "No fooling, Paddy! Captain Armstrong?" "Faix, an' he must have run away, skeart loike, whin he heerd you were coming." "You know where he is?" "Faix, and that's thrue," said Dinny. "Where is he, then? Tell me the truth, and I'll let you live this time. Tell me a lie, and I'll hang you." "Och, don't, captain! Ye'd waken yer crew horribly if ye were to hang me." "I'll hang you, as sure as you stand there, if you don't confess." "Murther! Don't, now, captain, for I shouldn't die dacently if ye did hang me. It isn't a way I've been accustomed to. Ah, moind! That pishtol might go off." "It will go off if you don't speak. He's hidden somewhere here, and you know where. Speak out!" "Shpake out! And is it shpake out?" said Dinny, slowly as with advanced blade Humphrey stood ready to plunge it into the breast of the first man who attempted to descend. "Oh, well, I'll shpake out then." "The traitor!" mattered Humphrey. "False to one, false to all." "Where is he, then?" roared Mazzard. "Faix, he's in his skin, captain." "You dog!" roared Mazzard. And there was the report of a pistol, followed by a wild shriek. "Don't--don't kill!" cried a piteous woman's voice. "Don't kill him!" "Not kill him!" snarled Mazzard. "No--no! Spare him, and I'll tell you." "Bedad, an' if ye do, I'll niver forgive ye," cried Dinny, fiercely. "Ye don't know nawthing. He's eshcaped." "Where is he!" roared Mazzard. "Speak out, woman, or I'll blow his head off!"