The moon had not yet risen when, in despite of Adam's warnings and remonstrances, I set the great boat-cloak about me and stepped forth into the stern-gallery of the ship, whence I might look down and behold the dark loom of the longboat, a gliding, glimmering shadow upon the white spume of the wake.
Now if there be any who, reading this my narrative, shall cry out against me for perverse fool (as I surely was) to all such I would but say that though indeed a man wild and headstrong by nature and given to passionate impulse, yet I was not wholly myself at this time by reason of my wound, so that the unlovely and gloomy spirit of selfishness that possessed me now had full sway to rule me how it listed; and I would have this plead such excuse as might be for this my so desperate and unreasonable determination, the which was to plunge me into further evils and miseries, as you shall hear.
"So you are determined on't, Martin?" said Adam, standing beside me where I prepared to descend the short rope ladder.
"I am!"
"Lord, Martin, there is so much to love in you 'tis pity you are so much of fool--"
"You said as much before--"
"Aye, so I did, comrade, so I did. But look'ee, 'tis a smooth sea, a fair wind--aha, it needeth no pistol butt to persuade you to it this time; you go of your own will and most express desire, comrade."
"I do, Adam."
"And who knoweth," said he, his gaze uplift to the Southern Cross that glimmered very bright and splendid above us, "who can say what lieth in wait for you, comrade,--hardship and suffering beyond doubt and--peradventure, death. But by hardship and suffering man learneth the wisdom of mercy, or should do, and by death he is but translated to a greater living--so I do hope. And thus, howsoever it be, all's well, Martin, all's well."
"Adam," said I, "give me your hand. You have called me 'fool' and fool am I, mayhap, yet in my folly, wisdom have I enough for this--to know you for my good friend and true comrade now and always!"
"Hark'ee then," said he, grasping my hand and leaning to my ear in the gloom, "give up this desperate quest, stand by me, and I can promise ye that which is better than empty vengeance--wealth, Martin, rank, aye, and what is best of all, a noble woman's love--"
"Enough!" cried I, "I am no weathercock and my mind is set--"
"Why, very well, but so is mine, shipmate, and set upon two things--one to fulfil my duty to the King in the matter of exterminating these pirates and the like rogues, and t'other to redeem my promise to our lady Joan in the matter of her father--your enemy."