I started in my hiding place, and a lump of dirt dislodged itself and rolled down to where the villains sat. They started; Francis sprang to his feet in terror.
"What is that?" he cried, and he peered uneasily up to where I crouched.
"Art thou a fool," he said, "to be scared out of thy wits by a clod of dirt falling? Thou art even as if thou hadst seen a ghost," and he laughed at his ally's fright.
The priest resumed his seat, still gazing up to where I lay.
"I fancy Sir Thomas Winchester is after me in every breeze I hear," he muttered, as he reseated himself.
"Calm thy mind," the seaman rejoined. "He is safe at his supper long ere this, dreaming over the king's wine," and he grinned.
"What foolishness is this? The Count yearning for some fair lady! Dost thou take me for a schoolboy, that I should believe this? Did he pine for some maid, he would bestir himself and take her; quietly, if possible--if not, then by force. Faith! thou little knowest him, if thou thinkest he would pine over any maiden."
"All the same, comrade, I saw him wring his hands, with my own eyes, but three short months ago, and cry out, as I have told thee, the name Margaret. Who could this Margaret be, if not a lady?"
All this time I was craning my neck to catch every word that was uttered, my mind in a tumult. Why did the Count cry Margaret? There was but one Margaret--pure, innocent, sweet. As soon would I have expected a worm to raise his eyes to the far-distant stars, as that this bloodstained villain should raise his evil eyes to her--so far above him.
And yet would this not explain my detention? Perhaps the pirate expected to lure Margaret from her home, and bring her here to torture me with the sight of her in his arms, before he should make away with me.
Yes, it was like him. He would exult in such exquisite anguish as this, and at the thought I ground my teeth together, and felt for the hilt of my sword. Happen what might, this should not come to pass. Rather would I, with one swift blow, put an end to her misery, and fall upon my own sword, than to witness such a scene as this--death would be a boon beside it.
Perhaps DeNortier was even now returning with her on his ship, that evil smile upon his face as he thought of my anguish and his triumph. He had been gone three months; and I had heard one of the men say only the day before, that the Count would return now almost any time.