Yet nothing had been farther from the young Englishman's thoughts when
he left her than faithlessness to his word. On reaching the ship again
he had gone directly to his cabin. Here he took from its small but
richly embroidered case a slender chain of gold, threaded so closely
with garnets that even in the dim light of the one flaring lantern, the
only illumination the room could boast, it glowed, a glancing stream of
crimson, in his hand. This he carried to the light and as he examined it
under the lantern he smiled.

"Never saw the little maid such jewels before, I'll warrant me! Yet,
beshrew my heart, but she deserves them. Indian though she be, still is
she, nevertheless, the loveliest woman that ever mine eyes have looked
upon!"

Then, stowing the necklace carefully away in his belt, he went at once
in search of the commander.

But at this point an unexpected difficulty had presented itself. He
found Sir Francis in close conversation with his pilot.

"Marry, Sir, an it fit n'er so ill with thy wish," the keen-eyed old
mariner was saying. "I still maintain it were a shame to lose this wind.
Gift or no gift, I've sailed these latitudes before, my lord, and by
heaven I swear we're not like to have such another breeze, no, not till
the change of the moon, and that you know yourself, sir, is a good
fortnight hence."

Sir Francis, striding back and forth within the narrow confines of the
quarter deck, appeared to be weighing the old man's words with unusual