Page:Cerise, a tale of the last century (IA cerisetaleoflast00whytrich).pdf/349

 that darkest hour of the night approached which is followed by dawn, just as sorrow is succeeded by consolation, and death by immortality. The breeze struck damp and chill on her unprotected neck and bosom, for there had been no time to think of cloaks or shawls when she escaped, nor was the air sufficiently cold before midnight to remind her of such precautions. The surrounding jungle stirred and sighed faintly, yet sadly, in the night air. The waters of the deep lagoon, now darkening with a darkening sky, lapped drearily against their bank. Other noises were there none, for the rioters seemed to have turned back from the resistance offered by Slap-Jack with his comrades, and to have abandoned for the present their search in that direction. The seamen who guarded the defile were peering stealthily into the gloom, not a man relaxing in his vigilance, not a man stirring on his post. The only sounds that broke her solitude were the restless movements of Bottle-Jack, and the groans that would not be suppressed. It was no wonder the Marquise shuddered.

She stooped over the old seaman and took his coarse, heavy hand in hers. Even at such an extremity, Bottle-Jack seemed conscious of the contrast, and touched it delicately, like some precious and fragile piece of porcelain. "I fear you are hurt," said she, in his own language, which she spoke with the measured accent of her countrywomen. "Tell me what it is; I am not a bad doctor myself."

Bottle-Jack tried to laugh. "It's a flea-bite, my lady," said he, setting his teeth to conceal the pain he suffered. "'Tis but a poke in the side after all, though them black beggars does grind their spear-heads to an edge like a razor. It's betwixt wind and water, d'ye see, marm, if I may be so bold, and past caulking, in my opinion. I'm a-fillin' fast, that's where it is, askin' your pardon again for naming it to a lady like you."

She partly understood him, and for the first time to-night the tears came into her eyes. They did her good. They seemed to clear her faculties and cool her brain. She examined the old man's hurt, after no small resistance on his part, and found a deep wound between his ribs, which even her experience warned her must be mortal. She stanched it as well as she could, tearing up the lace and other trim