"That also?" demanded Sir Mortimer. His tone was of simple wonder, and
there went round the board a laugh for Baldry's boasting. That
adventurer started to his feet, his eyes, that were black, deep-set, and
very bright, fixed upon Ferne.

"That also," he answered. "An I should die before our swords cross, that
also!"

He turned and left the cabin.

"Now," said Arden, as his heavy footsteps died away, "I had rather
gather snow for the Grand Turk than rubies with some I wot of!"

Henry Sedley, a hot red in his cheek, and his dark hair thrown back,
turned from staring after the retreating figure. "If I send him my
cartel, Sir Mortimer, wilt put me in irons?"

"Ay, that will I," said Ferne, calmly. "Word and deed he but doth after
his kind. Well, let him go. For his words, that a man's deeds do haunt
him, rising like shadows across his path, I believe full well--but for
me the master of the _Speedwell_ makes no stirring.... Take thy lute,
Henry Sedley, and sing to us, giving honey after gall! Sing to me of
other things than war."

As he spoke he moved to the stern windows, took his seat upon the bench
beneath, and leaning on his arm, looked out upon the low red sun and the
darkening ocean.

"'Ring out your bells, let mourning shows be spread:
For love is dead: