To them all it seemed that the name broke the spell that was upon them.
The name stood for very much. Carewe's outcry called up a cloud of
witnesses--the deeds of a man's lifetime--and marshalled them against
this monstrous accusation of a sick and whirling hour. "You know not
what you say!" spoke Nevil, harshly. "Good and evil are blent in you as
in all men, but God used no traitorous or craven stuff in your making!
Rest now,--speak to us to-morrow!"

[Illustration: "'I BEG THE SHORTEST SHRIFT THAT YOU MAY GIVE'"]

Again he would have advanced, but the man at the door waved him back,
smiled once more with his lips alone. "Ah, you all are dear to me! But
do you know I prefer your hatred to your love! Give me your hatred and
let me go. I am not mad nor do I lie to you.... Before the sunset,
when I had borne torment through the day, I bore it no longer. They
loosed me and dashed water in my face, and Luiz de Guardiola said over
to me the words that I had spoken. Then he went forth and laid his
snares.... And so Robert Baldry is lost, he and a hundred men besides?
And Spaniards coming down the river took the _Cygnet_ because they knew
the word of the night?" A spasm distorted the masklike features, but in
a moment it was gone. "I should be a madman," he said, "for once I
walked before you with a high head and a proud heart. It seems that I
knew not myself.... Now, John Nevil, enact Drake and send me to join
Thomas Doughty!"

The Admiral answered not where he stood, covering his eyes with his
hand. "But Francis Sark--" began Wynch, in a shaking voice.

"I know naught of Francis Sark," Ferne replied. "As I have said so I