Now the suspense reached its climax. Somewhere behind those softly spoken words surely lurked some awful, cunningly cloaked threat. Caliban went white, ghastly; his brave tongue stuck to his palate, and the thin lips slavered with growing panic.
"Come, Caliban!"
The girl's command was uttered no louder, her expression was unchanged; in her glorious eyes gleamed no trace of anything other than benign forgiveness; she remained motionless as before, with her rounded arm and shapely hand extended in a manner that revealed their every perfection.
"Come, Caliban!"
Again the words fell from her smiling lips, and now the quivering hunchback obeyed, drawn irresistibly by her magnetism, sick with dread of the stroke he in common with all his mates expected to fall.
"Kneel! See, I give thee my hand to kiss," Dolores said, and smiled upon the cowering wretch with a tender brilliance that sent a tremendous flutter through the hearts of the three yachtsmen.
Caliban knelt and took the proffered hand, then at her word he stood before her, scarcely certain yet that his head was solidly established on his shoulders. She motioned him to stand on one side of her, then, aglow with warm color, she addressed the puzzled throng: "My bold sea tigers, the ship that escaped thy sloop is but one ship. The seas are full of such. Yet, until to-day, how many have ye been forced to let go because of thy poor equipment in craft? Thy sloop, how small, how old--yet what rich prey escaped thy guns since the Red Chief's swift brig laid her bones here? None! Yet ye complain because I prevented thee destroying the beautiful schooner the gods have this day sent to us!"
Now the purport of her speech struck home; the seemingly soft-brained weakness that had forbidden the rape and pillage of the schooner stood in part explained. And as the light filtered through thick skulls and shone upon all but atrophied brains, a deep muttering swelled into the embryo of a throaty cheer that needed but one look of encouragement from Dolores to spring into noisy life. As for Venner, his expression was reflected in Tomlin, and both in Pearse; and awakening or resurrected, fear was the keynote of all.
"The vampire means to suck us dry after all!" whispered Venner hoarsely. His friends could only squeeze his arm in mute sympathy. They harbored no doubts at all.
Dolores went on: "With such a vessel as this"--pointing to the schooner--"that Indiaman to-day had never shown heels. And more, how think ye my store is replenished? Dost think I tap the rock for wine? Does Milo crush the granite and bring forth meat for thy hungry bellies? Are my treasures kept at high tide by snatching the colors from the sunset? Fools!" she cried, and for a moment passion conquered her calm. "In that schooner are wines that will make thy hot blood living flame; meats that will put teeth into the throats of the toothless; treasures fit for thy queen's treasury. And more to thy hand, my brave jackals, those pretty pieces of ordnance, which the sun even now paints with liquid gold, will outrange the guns of a king's ship." Pausing, she bent upon the murmuring crew a look of blazing majesty; then concluded with a vibrant demand: "Now dost know why thy queen withheld thy senseless hands from witless destruction?"