Java. I cannot guess where we are now--may be off Ushant, may be not so
far, for this sea is too short for the Bay; but the saints send us
sea-room, for we have been wearing these three hours.'

'Twas true enough that we had gone to wearing, as one might tell from the
heavier roll or wallowing when we went round, instead of the plunging of
a tack; but there was no chance of getting at our whereabouts. The only
thing we had to reckon time withal, was the taking off of the hatch twice
a day for food; and even this poor clock kept not the hour too well, for
often there were such gaps and intervals as made our bellies pine, and at
this present we had waited so long that I craved even that filthy broken
meat they fed us with.

So we were glad enough to hear a noise at the hatch just as Elzevir had
done speaking, and the cover was flung off, letting in a splash of salt
water and a little dim and dusky light. But instead of the guard with
their muskets and lanterns and the tubs of broken victuals, there was
only one man, and that the jailer who had padlocked us into gangs at the
beginning of the voyage.

He bent down for a moment over the hatch, holding on to the combing to
steady himself in the sea-way, and flung a key on a chain down into the
orlop, right among us. 'Take it,' he shouted in Dutch, 'and make the most
of it. God helps the brave, and the devil takes the hindmost.'

That said, he stayed not one moment, but turned about quick and was gone.
For an instant none knew what this play portended, and there was the key
lying on the deck, and the hatch left open. Then Elzevir saw what it all
meant, and seized the key. 'John,' cries he, speaking to me in English,
'the ship is foundering, and they are giving us a chance to save our
lives, and not drown like rats in a trap.' With that he tried the key on
the padlock which held our chain, and it fitted so well that in a trice
our gang was free. Off fell the chain clanking on the floor, and nothing
left of our bonds but an iron bracelet clamped round the left wrist. You
may be sure the others were quick enough to make use of the key when they
knew what 'twas, but we waited not to see more, but made for the ladder.

Now Elzevir and I, being used to the sea, were first through the hatchway
above, and oh, the strength and sweet coolness of the sea air, instead of
the warm, fetid reek of the orlop below! There was a good deal of water
sousing about on the main deck, but nothing to show the ship was sinking,
yet none of the crew was to be seen. We stayed there not a second, but
moved to the companion as fast as we could for the heavy pitching of the
ship, and so came on deck.

The dusk of a winter's evening was setting in, yet with ample light to
see near at hand, and the first thing I perceived was that the deck was
empty. There was not a living soul but us upon it. The brig was broached
to, with her bows against the heaviest sea I ever saw, and the waves
swept her fore and aft; so we made for the tail of the deck-house, and
there took stock. But before we got there I knew why 'twas the crew were
gone, and why they let us loose, for Elzevir pointed to something whither
we were drifting, and shouted in my ear so that I heard it above all the
raging of the tempest--'We are on a lee shore.'

We were lying head to sea, and never a bit of canvas left except one
storm-staysail. There were tattered ribands fluttering on the yards to
show where the sails had been blown away, and every now and then the
staysail would flap like a gun going off, to show it wanted to follow
them. But for all we lay head to sea, we were moving backwards, and each
great wave as it passed carried us on stern first with a leap and
swirling lift. 'Twas over the stern that Elzevir pointed, in the course
that we were going, and there was such a mist, what with the wind and
rain and spindrift, that one could see but a little way. And yet I saw
too far, for in the mist to which we were making a sternboard, I saw a
white line like a fringe or valance to the sea; and then I looked to
starboard, and there was the same white fringe, and then to larboard, and
the white fringe was there too. Only those who know the sea know how
terrible were Elzevir's words uttered in such a place. A moment before I
was exalted with, the keen salt wind, and with a hope and freedom that
had been strangers for long; but now 'twas all dashed, and death, that is
so far off to the young, had moved nearer by fifty years--was moving a
year nearer every minute.

'We are on a lee shore,' Elzevir shouted; and I looked and knew what the
white fringe was, and that we should be in the breakers in half an hour.
What a whirl of wind and wave and sea, what a whirl of thought and wild
conjecture! What was that land to which we were drifting? Was it cliff,
with deep water and iron face, where a good ship is shattered at a blow,
and death comes like a thunder-clap? Or was it shelving sand, where there
is stranding, and the pound, pound, pound of the waves for howls, before
she goes to pieces and all is over?

We were in a bay, for there was the long white crescent of surf reaching
far away on either side, till it was lost in the dusk, and the brig
helpless in the midst of it. Elzevir had hold of my arm, and gripped it
hard as he looked to larboard. I followed his eyes, and where one horn of
the white crescent faded into the mist, caught a dark shadow in the air,
and knew it was high land looming behind. And then the murk and driving
rain lifted ever so little, and as it were only for that purpose; and we
saw a misty bluff slope down into the sea, like the long head of a
basking alligator poised upon the water, and stared into each other's
eyes, and cried together, 'The Snout!'

It had vanished almost before it was seen, and yet we knew there was no
mistake; it was the Snout that was there looming behind the moving rack,
and we were in Moonfleet Bay. Oh, what a rush of thought then came,
dazing me with its sweet bitterness, to think that after all these weary
years of prison and exile we had come back to Moonfleet! We were so near
to all we loved, so near--only a mile of broken water--and yet so far,
for death lay between, and we had come back to Moonfleet to die. There
was a change came over Elzevir's features when he saw the Snout; his face
had lost its sadness and wore a look of sober happiness. He put his mouth
close to my ear and said: 'There is some strange leading hand has brought
us home at last, and I had rather drown on Moonfleet Beach than live in
prison any more, and drown we must within an hour. Yet we will play the
man, and make a fight for life.' And then, as if gathering together all
his force: 'We have weathered bad times together, and who knows but we
shall weather this?'

The other prisoners were on deck now, and had found their way aft. They
were wild with fear, being landsmen and never having seen an angry sea,
and indeed that sea might have frighted sailors too. So they stumbled
along drenched with the waves, and clustered round Elzevir, for they
looked on him as a leader, because he knew the ways of the sea and was
the only one left calm in this dreadful strait.

It was plain that when the Dutch crew found they were embayed, and that
the ship must drift into the breakers, they had taken to the boats, for
gig and jolly-boat were gone and only the pinnace left amidships. 'Twas
too heavy a boat perhaps for them to have got out in such a fearful sea;
but there it lay, and it was to that the prisoners turned their eyes.
Some had hold of Elzevir's arms, some fell upon the deck and caught him
by the knees, beseeching him to show them how to get the pinnace out.

Then he spoke out, shouting to make them hear: 'Friends, any man that
takes to boat is lost. I know this bay and know this beach, and was
indeed born hereabouts, but never knew a boat come to land in such a sea,
save bottom uppermost. So if you want my counsel, there you have it,
namely, to stick by the ship. In half an hour we shall be in the
breakers; and I will put the helm up and try to head the brig bows on to
the beach; so every man will have a chance to fight for his own life, and
God have mercy on those that drown.'

I knew what he said was the truth, and there was nothing for it but to
stick to the ship, though that was small chance enough; but those poor,
fear-demented souls would have nothing of his advice now 'twas given,
and must needs go for the boat. Then some came up from below who had been
in the spirit-room and were full of drink and drink-courage, and
heartened on the rest, saying they would have the pinnace out, and every
soul should be saved. Indeed, Fate seemed to point them that road, for a
heavier sea than any came on board, and cleared away a great piece of
larboard bulwarks that had been working loose, and made, as it were, a
clear launching-way for the boat. Again did Elzevir try to prevail with
them to stand by the ship, but they turned away and all made for the
pinnace. It lay amidships and was a heavy boat enough, but with so many
hands to help they got it to the broken bulwarks. Then Elzevir, seeing
they would have it out at any price, showed them how to take advantage of
the sea, and shifted the helm a little till the _Aurungzebe_ fell off to
larboard, and put the gap in the bulwarks on the lee. So in a few minutes
there it lay at a rope's-end on the sheltered side, deep laden with
thirty men, who were ill found with oars, and much worse found with skill
to use them. There were one or two, before they left, shouted to Elzevir
and me to try to make us follow them; partly, I think, because they
really liked Elzevir, and partly that they might have a sailor in the
boat to direct them; but the others cast off and left us with a curse,
saying that we might go and drown for obstinate Englishmen.

So we two were left alone on the brig, which kept drifting backwards
slowly; but the pinnace was soon lost to sight, though we saw that they
were rowing wild as soon as she passed out of the shelter of the ship,
and that they had much ado to keep her head to the sea.

Then Elzevir went to the kicking-wheel, and beckoned me to help him, and
between us we put the helm hard up. I saw then that he had given up all
hope of the wind shifting, and was trying to run her dead for the beach.

She was broached-to with her bows in the wind, but gradually paid off as
the staysail filled, and so she headed straight for shore. The November
night had fallen, and it was very dark, only the white fringe of the
breakers could be seen, and grew plainer as we drew closer to it. The
wind was blowing fiercer than ever, and the waves broke more fiercely
nearer the shore. They had lost their dirty yellow colour when the light
died, and were rolling after us like great black mountains, with a
combing white top that seemed as if they must overwhelm us every minute.
Twice they pooped us, and we were up to our waists in icy water, but
still held to the wheel for our lives.

The white line was nearer to us now, and above all the rage of wind and
sea I could hear the awful roar of the under-tow sucking back the
pebbles on the beach. The last time I could remember hearing that roar
was when I lay, as a boy, one summer's night 'twixt sleep and waking, in
the little whitewashed bedroom at my aunt's; and I wondered now if any
sat before their inland hearths this night, and hearing that far distant
roar, would throw another log on the fire, and thank God they were not
fighting for their lives in Moonfleet Bay. I could picture all that was
going on this night on the beach--how Ratsey and the landers would have
sighted the _Aurungzebe,_ perhaps at noon, perhaps before, and knew she
was embayed, and nothing could save her but the wind drawing to east.
But the wind would hold pinned in the south, and they would see sail
after sail blown off her, and watch her wear and wear, and every time
come nearer in; and the talk would run through the street that there was
a ship could not weather the Snout, and must come ashore by sundown.
Then half the village would be gathered on the beach, with the men ready
to risk their lives for ours, and in no wise wishing for the ship to be
wrecked; yet anxious not to lose their chance of booty, if Providence
should rule that wrecked she must be. And I knew Ratsey would be there,
and Damen, Tewkesbury, and Laver, and like enough Parson Glennie, and
perhaps--and at that perhaps, my thoughts came back to where we were,
for I heard Elzevir speaking to me:

'Look,' he said, 'there's a light!'

'Twas but the faintest twinkle, or not even that; only something that
told there was a light behind drift and darkness. It grew clearer as we
looked at it, and again was lost in the mirk, and then Elzevir said,
'Maskew's Match!'

It was a long-forgotten name that came to me from so far off, down such
long alleys of the memory, that I had, as it were, to grope and grapple
with it to know what it should mean. Then it all came back, and I was a
boy again on the trawler, creeping shorewards in the light breeze of an
August night, and watching that friendly twinkle from the Manor woods
above the village. Had she not promised she would keep that lamp alight
to guide all sailors every night till I came back again; was she not
waiting still for me, was I not coming back to her now? But what a coming
back! No more a boy, not on an August night, but broken, branded convict
in the November gale! 'Twas well, indeed, there was between us that white
fringe of death, that she might never see what I had fallen to.

'Twas likely Elzevir had something of the same thoughts, for he spoke
again, forgetting perhaps that I was man now, and no longer boy, and
using a name he had not used for years. 'Johnnie,' he said, 'I am cold
and sore downhearted. In ten minutes we shall be in the surf. Go down to
the spirit locker, drink thyself, and bring me up a bottle here. We
shall both need a young man's strength, and I have not got it any more.'

I did as he bid me, and found the locker though the cabin was all awash,
and having drunk myself, took him the bottle back. 'Twas good Hollands
enough, being from the captain's own store, but nothing to the old Ararat
milk of the Why Not? Elzevir took a pull at it, and then flung the bottle
away. 'Tis sound liquor,' he laughed, '"and good for autumn chills", as
Ratsey would have said.'

We were very near the white fringe now, and the waves followed us higher
and more curling. Then there was a sickly wan glow that spread itself
through the watery air in front of us, and I knew that they were burning
a blue light on the beach. They would all be there waiting for us,
though we could not see them, and they did not know that there were only
two men that they were signalling to, and those two Moonfleet born. They
burn that light in Moonfleet Bay just where a little streak of clay
crops out beneath the pebbles, and if a vessel can make that spot she
gets a softer bottom. So we put the wheel over a bit, and set her
straight for the flare.

There was a deafening noise as we came near the shore, the shrieking of
the wind in the rigging, the crash of the combing seas, and over all the
awful grinding roar of the under-tow sucking down the pebbles.

'It is coming now,' Elzevir said; and I could see dim figures moving in
the misty glare from the blue light; and then, just as the _Aurungzebe_
was making fair for the signal, a monstrous combing sea pooped her and
washed us both from the wheel, forward in a swirling flood. We grasped at
anything we could, and so brought up bruised and half-drowned in the
fore-chains; but as the wheel ran free, another sea struck her and
slewed her round. There was a second while the water seemed over, under,
and on every side, and then the _Aurungzebe_ went broadside on Moonfleet
beach, with a noise like thunder and a blow that stunned us.

I have seen ships come ashore in that same place before and since, and
bump on and off with every wave, till the stout balks could stand the
pounding no more and parted. But 'twas not so with our poor brig, for
after that first fearful shock she never moved again, being flung so firm
upon the beach by one great swamping wave that never another had power to
uproot her. Only she careened over beachwards, turning herself away from
the seas, as a child bows his head to escape a cruel master's ferule, and
then her masts broke off, first the fore and then the main, with a
splitting crash that made itself heard above all.

We were on the lee side underneath the shelter of the deckhouse clinging
to the shrouds, now up to our knees in water as the wave came on, now
left high and dry when it went back. The blue light was still burning,
but the ship was beached a little to the right of it, and the dim group
of fishermen had moved up along the beach till they were opposite us.
Thus we were but a hundred feet distant from them, but 'twas the interval
of death and life, for between us and the shore was a maddened race of
seething water, white foaming waves that leapt up from all sides against
our broken bulwarks, or sucked back the pebbles with a grinding roar till
they left the beach nearly dry.

We stood there for a minute hanging on, and waiting for resolution to
come back to us after the shock of grounding. On the weather side the
seas struck and curled over the brig with a noise like thunder, and the
force of countless tons. They came over the top of the deck-house in a
cataract of solid water, and there was a crash, crash, crash of rending
wood, as plank after plank gave way before that stern assault. We could
feel the deck-house itself quiver, and shake again as we stood with our
backs against it, and at last it moved so much that we knew it must soon
be washed over on us.

The moment had come. 'We must go after the next big wave runs back,'
Elzevir shouted. 'Jump when I give the word, and get as far up the
pebbles as you can before the next comes in: they will throw us a
rope's-end to catch; so now good-bye, John, and God save us both!'

I wrung his hand, and took off my convict clothes, keeping my boots on to
meet the pebbles, and was so cold that I almost longed for the surf. Then
we stood waiting side by side till a great wave came in, turning the
space 'twixt ship and shore into a boiling caldron: a minute later 'twas
all sucked back again with a roar, and we jumped.

I fell on hands and feet where the water was a yard deep under the ship,
but got my footing and floundered through the slop, in a desperate
struggle to climb as high as might be on the beach before the next wave
came in. I saw the string of men lashed together and reaching down as
far as man might, to save any that came through the surf, and heard them
shout to cheer us, and marked a coil of rope flung out. Elzevir was by
my side and saw it too, and we both kept our feet and plunged forward
through the quivering slack water; but then there came an awful thunder
behind, the crash of the sea over the wreck, and we knew that another
mountain wave was on our heels. It came in with a swishing roar, a rush
and rise of furious water that swept us like corks up the beach, till we
were within touch of the rope's-end, and the men shouted again to
hearten us as they flung it out. Elzevir seized it with his left hand
and reached out his right to me. Our fingers touched, and in that very
moment the wave fell instantly, with an awful suck, and I was swept
down the beach again. Yet the under-tow took me not back to sea, for
amid the floating wreckage floated the shattered maintop, and in the
truck of that great spar I caught, and so was left with it upon the
beach thirty paces from the men and Elzevir. Then he left his own
assured salvation, namely the rope, and strode down again into the very
jaws of death to catch me by the hand and set me on my feet. Sight and
breath were failing me; I was numb with cold and half-dead from the
buffeting of the sea; yet his giant strength was powerful to save me
then, as it had saved me before. So when we heard once more the warning
crash and thunder of the returning wave we were but a fathom distant
from the rope. 'Take heart, lad,' he cried; ''tis now or never,' and as
the water reached our breasts gave me a fierce shove forward with his
hands. There was a roar of water in my ears, with a great shouting of
the men upon the beach, and then I caught the rope.




CHAPTER 19

ON THE BEACH

Toll for the brave,
The grave that are no more;
All sunk beneath the wave
Fast by their native shore--_Cowper_


The night was cold, and I had nothing on me save breeches and boots, and
those drenched with the sea, and had been wrestling with the surf so long
that there was little left in me. Yet once I clutched the rope I clung to
it for very life, and in a minute found myself in the midst of the
beachmen. I heard them shout again, and felt strong hands seize me, but
could not see their faces for a mist that swam before my eyes, and could
not speak because my throat and tongue were cracked with the salt water,
and the voice would not come. There was a crowd about me of men and some
women, and I spread out my hands, blindly, to catch hold of them, but my
knees failed and let me down upon the beach. And after that I remember
only having coats flung over me, and being carried off out of the wind,
and laid in warmest blankets before a fire. I was numb with the cold, my
hair was matted with the salt, and my flesh white and shrivelled, but
they forced liquor into my mouth, and so I lay in drowsy content till
utter weariness bound me in sleep.

It was a deep and dreamless sleep for hours, and when it left me, gently
and as it were inch by inch, I found I was still lying wrapped in
blankets by the fire. Oh, what a vast and infinite peace was that, to lie
there half-asleep, yet wake enough to know that I had slipped my prison
and the pains of death, and was a free man here in my native place! At
last I shifted myself a little, growing more awake; and opening my eyes
saw I was not alone, for two men sat at a table by me with glasses and a
bottle before them.

'He is coming-to,' said one, 'and may live yet to tell us who he is, and
from what port his craft sailed.'

'There has been many a craft,' the other said, 'has sailed for many a
port, and made this beach her last; and many an honest man has landed on
it, and never one alive in such a sea. Nor would this one be living
either, if it had not been for that other brave heart to stand by and
save him. Brave heart, brave heart,' he said over to himself. 'Here, pass
me the bottle or I shall get the vapours. 'Tis good against these early
chills, and I have not been in this place for ten years past, since poor
Elzevir was cut adrift.'

I could not see the speaker's face from where I lay upon the floor, yet
seemed to know his voice; and so was fumbling in my weakened mind to put
a name to it, when he spoke of Elzevir, and sent my thoughts flying
elsewhere.

'Elzevir,' I said, 'where is Elzevir?' and sat up to look round,
expecting to see him lying near me, and remembering the wreck more
clearly now, and how he had saved me with that last shove forward on the
beach. But he was not to be seen, and so I guessed that his great
strength had brought him round quicker than had my youth, and that he was
gone back to the beach.

'Hush,' said one of the men at the table, 'lie down and get to sleep
again'; and then he added, speaking to his comrade: 'His brain is
wandering yet: do you see how he has caught up my words about Elzevir?'

'No,' I struck in, 'my head is clear enough; I am speaking of Elzevir
Block. I pray you tell me where he is. Is, he well again?' They got up
and stared at one another and at me, when I named Elzevir Block, and then
I knew the one that spoke for Master Ratsey only greyer than he was.

'Who are you?' he cried, 'who talk of Elzevir Block.'

'Do you not know me, Master Ratsey?' and I looked full in his face. 'I am
John Trenchard, who left you so long ago. I pray you tell me where is
Master Block?'

Master Ratsey looked as if he had seen a ghost, and was struck dumb at
first: but then ran up and shook me by the hand so warmly that I fell
back again on my pillow, while he poured out questions in a flood. How
had I fared, where had I been, whence had I come? until I stopped him,
saying: 'Softly, kind friend, and I will answer; only tell me first,
where is Master Elzevir?'

'Nay, that I cannot say,' he answered, 'for never a soul has set eyes on
Elzevir since that summer morning we put thee and him ashore at Newport.'

'Oh, fool me not!' I cried out, chafing at his excuses; 'I am not
wandering now. 'Twas Elzevir that saved me in the surf last night. 'Twas
he that landed with me.'

There was a look of sad amaze that came on Ratsey's face when I said
that; a look that woke in me an awful surmise. 'What!' cried he, 'was
that Master Elzevir that dragged thee through the surf?'

'Ay, 'twas he landed with me, 'twas he landed with me,' I said; trying,
as it were, to make true by repeating that which I feared was not the
truth. There was a minute's silence, and then Ratsey spoke very softly:
'There was none landed with you; there was no soul saved from that ship
alive save you.'

His words fell, one by one, upon my ear as if they were drops of molten
lead. 'It is not true,' I cried; 'he pulled me up the beach himself, and
it was he that pushed me forward to the rope.'

'Ay, he saved thee, and then the under-tow got hold of him and swept him
down under the curl. I could not see his face, but might have known there
never was a man, save Elzevir, could fight the surf on Moonfleet beach
like that. Yet had we known 'twas he, we could have done no more, for
many risked their lives last night to save you both. We could have done
no more.' Then I gave a great groan for utter anguish, to think that he
had given up the safety he had won for himself, and laid down his life,
there on the beach, for me; to think that he had died on the threshold of
his home; that I should never get a kind look from him again, nor ever
hear his kindly voice.

It is wearisome to others to talk of deep grief, and beside that no
words, even of the wisest man, can ever set it forth, nor even if we were
able could our memory bear to tell it. So I shall not speak more of that
terrible blow, only to say that sorrow, so far from casting my body down,
as one might have expected, gave it strength, and I rose up from the
mattress where I had been lying. They tried to stop me, and even to hold
me back, but for all I was so weak, I pushed them aside and must needs
fling a blanket round me and away back to the beach.

The morning was breaking as I left the Why Not?, for 'twas in no other
place but that I lay, and the wind, though still high, had abated. There
were light clouds crossing the heaven very swiftly, and between them
patches of clear sky where the stars were growing paler before the dawn.
The stars were growing paler; but there was another star, that shone out
from the Manor woods above the village, although I could not see the
house, and told me Grace, like the wise virgins, kept her lamp alight all
night. Yet even that light shone without lustre for me then, for my heart
was too full to think of anything but of him who had laid down his life
for mine, and of the strong kind heart that was stilled for ever.

'Twas well I knew the way, so sure of old, from Why Not? to beach; for I
took no heed to path or feet, but plunged along in the morning dusk,
blind with sorrow and weariness of spirit. There was a fire of driftwood
burning at the back of the beach, and round it crouched a group of men
in reefing jackets and sou'westers waiting for morning to save what they
might from the wreck; but I gave them a wide berth and so passed in the
darkness without a word, and came to the top of the beach. There was
light enough to make out what was doing. The sea was running very high,
but with the falling wind the waves came in more leisurely and with less
of broken water, curling over in a tawny sweep and regular thunderous
beat all along the bay for miles. There was no sign left of the hull of
the _Aurungzebe_, but the beach was strewn with so much wreckage as one
would have thought could never come from so small a ship. There were
barrels and kegs, gratings and hatch-covers, booms and pieces of masts
and trucks; and beside all that, the heaving water in-shore was covered
with a floating mask of broken match-wood, and the waves, as they curled
over, carried up and dashed down on the pebble planks and beams beyond
number. There were a dozen or more of men on the seaward side of the
beach, with oilskins to keep the wet out, prowling up and down the
pebbles to see what they could lay their hands on; and now and then they
would run down almost into the white fringe, risking their lives to save
a keg as they had risked them to save their fellows last night--as they
had risked their lives to save ours, as Elzevir had risked his life to
save mine, and lost it there in the white fringe.

I sat down at the top of the beach, with elbows on knees, head between
hands, and face set out to sea, not knowing well why I was there or what
I sought, but only thinking that Elzevir was floating somewhere in that
floating skin of wreck-wood, and that I must be at hand to meet him when
he came ashore. He would surely come in time, for I had seen others come
ashore that way. For when the _Bataviaman_ went on the beach, I stood as
near her as our rescuers had stood to us last night, and there were some
aboard who took the fatal leap from off her bows and tried to battle
through the surf. I was so near them I could mark their features and read
the wild hope in their faces at the first, and then the under-tow took
hold of them, and never one that saved his life that day. And yet all
came to beach at last, and I knew them by their dead faces for the men I
had seen hoping against hope 'twixt ship and shore; some naked and some
clothed, some bruised and sorely beaten by the pebbles and the sea, and
some sound and untouched--all came to beach at last.

So I sat and waited for him to come; and none of the beach-walkers said
anything to me, the Moonfleet men thinking I came from Ringstave, and the
Langton men that I belonged to Moonfleet; and both that I had marked some
cask at sea for my own and was waiting till it should come in. Only after
a while Master Ratsey joined me, and sitting down by me, begged me to eat
bread and meat that he had brought. Now I had little heart to eat, but
took what he gave me to save myself from his importunities, and having
once tasted was led by nature to eat all, and was much benefited thereby.
Yet I could not talk with Ratsey, nor answer any of his questions, though
another time I should have put a thousand to him myself; and he seeing
'twas no good sat by me in silence, using a spy-glass now and again to
make out the things floating at sea. As the day grew the men left the
fire at the back of the beach, and came down to the sea-front where the
waves were continually casting up fresh spoil. And there all worked with
a will, not each one for his own hand, but all to make a common hoard
which should be divided afterwards.

Among the flotsam moving outside the breakers I could see more than one
dark ball, like black buoys, bobbing up and down, and lifting as the
wave came by: and knew them for the heads of drowned men. Yet though I
took Ratsey's glass and scanned all carefully enough, I could make
nothing of them, but saw the pinnace floating bottom up, and farther out
another boat deserted and down to her gunwale in the water. 'Twas midday
before the first body was cast up, when the sky was breaking a little,
and a thin and watery sun trying to get through, and afterwards three
other bodies followed. They were part of the pinnace's crew, for all had
the iron ring on the left wrist, as Ratsey told me, who went down to see
them, though he said nothing of the branded 'Y', and they were taken up
and put under some sheeting at the back of the beach, there to lie till a
grave should be made ready for them.

Then I felt something that told me he was coming and saw a body rolled
over in the surf, and knew it for the one I sought. 'Twas nearest me he
was flung up, and I ran down the beach, caring nothing for the white
foam, nor for the under-tow, and laid hold of him: for had he not left
the rescue-line last night, and run down into the surf to save my
worthless life? Ratsey was at my side, and so between us we drew him up
out of the running foam, and then I wrung the water from his hair, and
wiped his face and, kneeling down there, kissed him.

When they saw that we had got a body, others of the men came up, and
stared to see me handle him so tenderly. But when they knew, at last, I
was a stranger and had the iron ring upon my wrist, and a 'Y' burned upon
my cheek, they stared the more; until the tale went round that I was he
who had come through the surf last night alive, and this poor body was my
friend who had laid down his life for me. Then I saw Ratsey speak with
one and another of the group, and knew that he was telling them our
names; and some that I had known came up and shook me by the hand, not
saying anything because they saw my heart was full; and some bent down
and looked in Elzevir's face, and touched his hands as if to greet him.
Sea and stones had been merciful with him, and he showed neither bruise
nor wound, but his face wore a look of great peace, and his eyes and
mouth were shut. Even I, who knew where 'twas, could scarcely see the 'Y'
mark on his cheek, for the paleness of death had taken out the colour of
the scar, and left his face as smooth and mellow-white as the alabaster
figures in Moonfleet church. His body was naked from the waist up, as he
had stripped for jumping from the brig, and we could see the great broad
chest and swelling muscles that had pulled him out of many a desperate
pass, and only failed him, for the first and last time so few hours ago.

They stood for a little while looking in silence at the old lander who
had run his last cargo on Moonfleet beach, and then they laid his arms
down by his side, and slung him in a sail, and carried him away. I walked
beside, and as we came down across the sea-meadows, the sun broke out and
we met little groups of schoolchildren making their way down to the beach
to see what was doing with the wreck. They stood aside to let us go by,
the boys pulling their caps and the girls dropping a curtsy, when they
knew that it was a poor drowned body passing; and as I saw the children I
thought I saw myself among them, and I was no more a man, but just come
out from Mr. Glennie's teaching in the old almshouse hall.

Thus we came to the Why Not? and there set him down. The inn had not
been let, as I learned afterwards, since Maskew died; and they had put
a fire in it last night for the first time, knowing that the brig would
be wrecked, and thinking that some might come off with their lives and
require tending. The door stood open, and they carried him into the
parlour, where the fire was still burning, and laid him down on the
trestle-table, covering his face and body with the sail. This done they
all stood round a little while, awkwardly enough, as not knowing what
to do; and then slipped away one by one, because grief is a thing that
only women know how to handle, and they wanted to be back on the beach
to get what might be from the wreck. Last of all went Master Ratsey,
saying, he saw that I would as lief be alone, and that he would come
back before dark.

So I was left alone with my dead friend, and with a host of bitterest
thoughts. The room had not been cleaned; there were spider-webs on the
beams, and the dust stood so thick on the window-panes as to shut out
half the light. The dust was on everything: on chairs and tables, save on
the trestle-table where he lay. 'Twas on this very trestle they had laid
out David's body; 'twas in this very room that this still form, who would
never more know either joy or sorrow, had bowed down and wept over his
son. The room was just as we had left it an April evening years ago, and
on the dresser lay the great backgammon board, so dusty that one could
not read the lettering on it; 'Life is like a game of hazard; the skilful
player will make something of the worst of throws'; but what unskillful
players we had been, how bad our throws, how little we had made of them!

'Twas with thoughts like this that I was busy while the short afternoon
was spent, and the story went up and down the village, how that Elzevir
Block and John Trenchard, who left so long ago, were come back to
Moonfleet, and that the old lander was drowned saving the young man's
life. The dusk was creeping up as I turned back the sail from off his
face and took another look at my lost friend, my only friend; for who
was there now to care a jot for me? I might go and drown myself on
Moonfleet beach, for anyone that would grieve over me. What did it profit
me to have broken bonds and to be free again? what use was freedom to me
now? where was I to go, what was I to do? My friend was gone.

So I went back and sat with my head in my hands looking into the fire,
when I heard someone step into the room, but did not turn, thinking it
was Master Ratsey come back and treading lightly so as not to disturb me.
Then I felt a light touch on my shoulder, and looking up saw standing by
me a tall and stately woman, girl no longer, but woman in the full
strength and beauty of youth. I knew her in a moment, for she had altered
little, except her oval face had something more of dignity, and the tawny
hair that used to fly about her back was now gathered up. She was looking
down at me, and let her hand rest on my shoulder. 'John,' she said, 'have
you forgotten me? May I not share your sorrow? Did you not think to tell
me you were come? Did you not see the light, did you not know there was a
friend that waited for you?'

I said nothing, not being able to speak, but marvelling how she had come
just in the point of time to prove me wrong to think I had no friend; and
she went on:

'Is it well for you to be here? Grieve not too sadly, for none could have
died nobler than he died; and in these years that you have been away, I
have thought much of him and found him good at heart, and if he did aught
wrong 'twas because others wronged him more.'

And while she spoke I thought how Elzevir had gone to shoot her father,
and only failed of it by a hair's-breadth, and yet she spoke so well I
thought he never really meant to shoot at all, but only to scare the
magistrate. And what a whirligig of time was here, that I should have
saved Elzevir from having that blot on his conscience, and then that he
should save my life, and now that Maskew's daughter should be the one to
praise Elzevir when he lay dead! And still I could not speak.

And again she said: 'John, have you no word for me? have you forgotten?
do you not love me still? Have I no part in your sorrow?'

Then I took her hand in mine and raised it to my lips, and said, 'Dear
Mistress Grace, I have forgotten nothing, and honour you above all
others: but of love I may not speak more to you--nor you to me, for we
are no more boy and girl as in times past, but you a noble lady and I a
broken wretch'; and with that I told how I had been ten years a
prisoner, and why, and showed her the iron ring upon my wrist, and the
brand upon my cheek.

At the brand she stared, and said, 'Speak not of wealth; 'tis not wealth
makes men, and if you have come back no richer than you went, you are
come back no poorer, nor poorer, John, in honour. And I am rich and have
more wealth than I can rightly use, so speak not of these things; but be
glad that you are poor, and were not let to profit by that evil treasure.
But for this brand, it is no prison name to me, but the Mohunes' badge,
to show that you are theirs and must do their bidding. Said I not to you,
Have a care how you touch the treasure, it was evilly come by and will
bring a curse with it? But now, I pray you, with a greater earnestness,
seeing you bear this mark upon you, touch no penny of that treasure if it
should some day come back to you, but put it to such uses as Colonel
Mohune thought would help his sinful soul.'

With that she took her hand from mine and bade me 'good night', leaving
me in the darkening room with the glow from the fire lighting up the sail
and the outline of the body that lay under it. After she was gone I
pondered long over what she had said, and what that should mean when she
spoke of the treasure one day coming back to me: but wondered much the
most to find how constant is the love of woman, and how she could still
find a place in her heart for so poor a thing as I. But as to what she
said, I was to learn her meaning this very night.

Master Ratsey had come in and gone again, not stopping with me very long,
because there was much doing on the beach; but bidding me be of good
cheer, and have no fear of the law; for that the ban against me and the
head-price had been dead for many a year. 'Twas Grace had made her
lawyers move for this, refusing herself to sign the hue and cry, and
saying that the fatal shot was fired by misadventure. And so a dread
which was just waking was laid to rest for ever; and when Ratsey went I
made up the fire, and lay down in the blankets in front of it, for I was
dog-tired and longed for sleep. I was already dozing, but not asleep,
when there was a knock at the door, and in walked Mr. Glennie. He was
aged, and stooped a little, as I could see by the firelight, but for all
that I knew him at once, and sitting up offered him what welcome I could.

He looked at me curiously at first, as taking note of the bearded man
that had grown out of the boy he remembered, but gave me very kindly
greeting, and sat down beside me on a bench. First, he lifted the sail
from the dead body, and looked at the sleeping face. Then he took out a
Common Prayer reading the Commendamus over the dead, and giving me
spiritual comfort, and lastly, he fell to talking about the past. From
him I learnt something of what had happened while I was away, though for
that matter nothing had happened at all, except a few deaths, for that
is the only sort of change for which we look in Moonfleet. And among
those who had passed away was Miss Arnold, my aunt, so that I was
another friend the less, if indeed I should count her a friend: for
though she meant me well, she showed her care with too much strictness
to let me love her, and so in my great sorrow for Elzevir I found no
room to grieve for her.

Whether from the spiritual solace Mr. Glennie offered me, or whether from
his pointing out how much cause for thankfulness I had in being loosed
out of prison and saved from imminent death, certain it was I felt some
assuagement of grief, and took pleasure in his talk.

'And though I may by some be reprehended,' he said, 'for presuming to
refer to profane authors after citing Holy Scripture, yet I cannot
refrain from saying that even the great poet Homer counsels moderation in
mourning, "for quickly," says he, "cometh satiety of chilly grief".'

After this I thought he was going, but he cleared his throat in such a