Drake, who, with a quick intake of his breath, had drawn sharply back, was the first to recover. He sent his lightning glance from the frowning, the deeply flushed and horror-stricken, countenances about him to the man whose worn cheek showed no color, whose lips were locked, whose eyes were steadfast, though a little lifted to the blue sky above the cross. "Now death of my life!" swore the sea-king. "The knave did well to call you 'Master.' Whatever there may have been, here is now no coward!" He turned to the staring, whispering throng. "Gentlemen, we will remove from this space, which was the death-bed of a brave man and a true martyr. This done, each man of you will go soberly about his business, remembering that God's dealings are not those of men;--remembering also that this gentleman is under my protection." Doffing his red cap, he stepped slowly backward out of the wide ring about the market-cross. His example was followed by all; a few moments and the last rays of the sinking sun lay only upon bare stone and earth. Some hours later, Robin-a-dale asleep in the bed, and his master keeping motionless watch at the window, Arden entered the room which had been assigned to Sir Mortimer Ferne, and crossing the floor, sat himself down beside his friend. Presently Ferne put forth his hand, and the two sat with interlacing fingers, looking out upon the great constellations. Arden was the first to speak. "Dost remember how, when we were boys at school, and the curfew long rung, we yet knelt at our window and saw the stars come up over the moorland? Thou wert the poet and teller of tales--ah! thy paladins and paynims and ladies enchanted!--while I listened, bewitched as they, but with an ear for the master's tread. It was a fearful joy!" "I remember," said the other. "It was a trick of mine which too often brought the cane across our shoulders." "Not mine," quoth Arden. "You always begged me off. I was the smallest--you waked me--made me listen, forsooth!... Welladay! Old times seem near to-night!" "Old times!" repeated the other. "Pictures that creep beneath the shut eyelid!--frail sounds that outcry the storm!--Shame's most delicate, most exquisite goad!... You cannot know how strange this day has been to me." "You cannot know how glad this day has been to me," replied Arden, with a break in his voice. "Do you remember, Mortimer, that I would have sailed with you in the _Sea Wraith?_" "I forget nothing," said the other. "I think that I reviled you then.... See how far hath swung my needle!" He lifted his school-fellow's hand to his cheek in a long, mute caress, then laying it down. "There is one at home of whose welfare I would learn. She is not dead, I know. Her brother comes to me in my dreams with all the rest--with all the rest,--but she comes not. Speak to me of Mistress Damaris Sedley."