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a truth Sally felt that the gold—if there was any after all, she firmly repeated to herself—had already been ensanguined sufficiently to justify Spanish Dick's prophecies. Still the gypsy insisted on reassuring her, thus pleasantly:

"It is only the leetle beginning, Señorita. When you speak so soft to El Capitain and put your pretty cheek up against his much whiskers—so—he always say 'yes.' You speek to heem now, and tell heem to sail away in the beeg ship, pronto, yes?"

In the early morning, when last night's memories hung like a fog over the dreary, drenched surface of her consciousness, she was tempted to follow his advice.

She thought of Ben and shuddered. Never had she seen him as he was on the night before. Had he, too, been bewitched by some unholy spell of the place? They had better sail away.

But, after all, she ought to be glad that it was the brute with the ugly face and the scar, who had fallen, and not the man she had loved. She gave a sob of thankfulness—then, in her distracted state, was horrified at herself. Had loved? What could she be thinking! She caught the phrase floating through her mind like an evil winged thing of the night and 317