not my own lack of candour that prompted the thought.

His recovery was slow work at best, for the wound had brought on fever, and
the fever had reduced him terribly, and when the later journeying renewed
the wound trouble he had barely strength to hang on. But he was an Island
man, and almost kin to me for the love I bore Carette, and I spared myself
no whit in his service, thinking ever of her. And the care and attention I
was able to give him, and perhaps the very fact of companionship, and the
hopes I held out of escape together when he should be well enough, wrought
mightily in him. So much so that the hospital man, when he looked in, now
and again, to see how we were getting on, told me he would want my help
elsewhere as soon as my present patient was on his feet again, as I was
evidently built for tending sick men.

As soon as Le Merchant's lung healed sufficiently to let him speak without
ill consequences, I got out of him particulars of the disaster that had
befallen them.

They were running an unusually valuable cargo into Poole Harbour when they
fell into a carefully arranged trap. They flung overboard their weighted
kegs and made a bolt for the open, and found themselves face to face with a
couple of heavily-armed cutters converging on the harbour, evidently by
signal. Under such circumstances the usual course, since flight was out of
the question, would have been a quiet surrender, but Jean Le Marchant,
furious at being so tricked, flung discretion after his kegs, and fought
for a chance of freedom.

"But we never had a chance," said Helier bitterly, "and it was a mistake to
try, though we all felt as mad about it as he did. I saw him and Martin go
down. Then this cursed bullet took me in the chest, and I don't remember