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Black Bartlemy's Treasure by Jeffery Farnol
page 4 of 501 (00%)
'twas a very small thing, no more than a mark that showed upon
the polished surface of the link, a line not so thick as a hair
and not to be noticed without close looking; but when I bore upon
the link this hair-line grew and widened, it needed but a sudden
wrench and I should be free. This threw me into such a rapturous
transport that I had much ado to contain myself, howbeit after
some while I lifted my eyes to the heaven all flushed and rosy
with the young day, for it seemed that God had indeed heard my
prayer.

Presently, along the gangway amidships, comes none other than
that accursed Portugal, Pedro the whip-master, who, espying the
drooping form of the Frenchman beside me, forthwith falls a-
cursing in his vile tongue and gives a prodigious flourish with
his whip. Now by reason of much practice they do become very
expert with these same whips, insomuch that they shall (with a
certain cunning flick of the lash) gash you a man as it were with
a knife, the like of which none may bear and not cry out for the
exceeding pain of it. "Ha, thou lazy dog!" cries he, "Think ye
to snore and take your ease whiles Pedro is aboard?" And with
the word the long lash hissed and cracked upon the Frenchman's
naked back like a pistol-shot.

And lo! he (that meseemed was dead) stirred. I felt the scarred
body leap and quiver, the swooning eyes opened, rolling dim and
sightless and the pallid face was twisted in sharp anguish; but,
even as I watched, the lines of agony were smoothed away, into
the wild eyes came a wondrous light, and uttering a great, glad
cry he sank forward across the oar-shaft and hung there.
Hereupon this accursed Pedro betook him to his whip, smiting
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