"I know more about you than you think," remarked Uncle Anthony; "and at one time I should have been sorely disturbed at doing you harm, so much did I believe in you. It is little use deploring the inevitable. I am too old a man to give up because of one failure, or to cry out because God seemeth against me. But why did you interfere, Roger Trevanion? You, the gay spendthrift--you, who have cared but little for aught save your gaming and your revelries. Why did you not live your life, and let others deal with matters of serious import? Religion is naught to you. It is everything to some of us." "Because the society of a pure woman made me ashamed of myself," I cried; "because she made me remember my name, my race, and my duty to my country and to God." The old man sighed, while Otho spoke apart with two or three of the men. "Methinks I had better have killed you this very evening," he said; "my hand was on the trigger of my pistol." "When we met?" "Aye." "And I might have had you arrested," I replied. "I recognized you in spite of your disguise. I wrote a note to Lord Falmouth warning him that no reliance could be placed upon the information you might give. I might have added your name." "So you might," he said quietly, and he seemed in deep thought. "Then this danger signal would not have been seen," he added. At that moment we heard the sound of a gun coming from across the waters. "Ah!" cried voices all around me; "they have seen the danger signal. Now we must leave." "But not before I have dealt with Roger Trevanion," cried Otho Killigrew; "now, you fellows, do my bidding." "Not that, by God, no!" cried one of the men, "let him die as man should. I'll have naught to do with roasting." "But we owe all our failure to him," cried Otho. "You have your own private grudge, no doubt," said another. "Kill him as a gentleman should be killed. Hot lead, cold steel, or the water, I don't mind which, but not that." I looked around as well as I could, but Uncle Anthony had gone, and I saw that there was a movement among the men who had waited by the fire. "Then it shall be cold steel," cried Otho, and he drew his sword from his sheath. If it be possible to realize a sense of satisfaction at such a moment, I realized it then. At any rate, I was not to suffer the cruel torture which Otho intended. Indeed, I doubt whether my mind could have withstood much longer the strain I was undergoing. For the last few days my life had been one constant excitement. Every nerve was strung to the highest pitch, and although my wound was neither deep nor dangerous, it had pained me much. "They laugh best who laugh last," said Otho, coming to me grimly, "and I shall laugh last, I warrant you." "Be quick, then, and do your devil's work!" I cried aloud, for I was sore wrought upon. "I cannot touch you, I am bound, so you are safe. But I would to God I could die at the hands of a man, instead of a revengeful cut-throat."