“But, master Yeo, a sudden death?”

“And why not a sudden death, Sir John?  Even fools long for a short life and a merry one, and shall not the Lord’s people pray for a short death and a merry one?  Let it come as it will to old Yeo.  Hark! there’s the captain’s voice!”

“Here she is!” thundered Amyas from the deck; and in an instant all were scrambling up the hatchway as fast as the frantic rolling of the ship would let them.

Yes.  There she was.  The cloud had lifted suddenly, and to the south a ragged bore of blue sky let a long stream of sunshine down on her tall masts and stately hull, as she lay rolling some four or five miles to the eastward:  but as for land, none was to be seen.

“There she is; and here we are,” said Cary; “but where is here? and where is there?  How is the tide, master?”

“Running up Channel by this time, sir.”

“What matters the tide?” said Amyas, devouring the ship with terrible and cold blue eyes.  “Can’t we get at her?”

“Not unless some one jumps out and shoves behind,” said Cary.  “I shall down again and finish that mackerel, if this roll has not chucked it to the cockroaches under the table.”

“Don’t jest, Will!  I can’t stand it,” said Amyas, in a voice which quivered so much that Cary looked at him.  His whole frame was trembling like an aspen.  Cary took his arm, and drew him aside.

“Dear old lad,” said he, as they leaned over the bulwarks, “what is this?  You are not yourself, and have not been these four days.”

“No.  I am not Amyas Leigh.  I am my brother’s avenger.  Do not reason with me, Will:  when it is over I shall be merry old Amyas again,” and he passed his hand over his brow.

“Do you believe,” said he, after a moment, “that men can be possessed by devils?”

“The Bible says so.”

“If my cause were not a just one, I should fancy I had a devil in me.  My throat and heart are as hot as the pit.  Would to God it were done, for done it must be!  Now go.”

Cary went away with a shudder.  As he passed down the hatchway he looked back.  Amyas had got the hone out of his pocket, and was whetting away again at his sword-edge, as if there was some dreadful doom on him, to whet, and whet forever.

The weary day wore on.  The strip of blue sky was curtained over again, and all was dismal as before, though it grew sultrier every moment; and now and then a distant mutter shook the air to westward.  Nothing could be done to lessen the distance between the ships, for the Vengeance had had all her boats carried away but one, and that was much too small to tow her:  and while the men went down again to finish dinner, Amyas worked on at his sword, looking up every now and then suddenly at the Spaniard, as if to satisfy himself that it was not a vision which had vanished.

About two Yeo came up to him.

“He is ours safely now, sir.  The tide has been running to the eastward for this two hours.”