"Oh, Martino," said she, leaning 'gainst a rock when at last I broke from her, "you are mine now and always, as you were in other times long since forgot. In those days your blood was on my lips, I mind, and your kisses also ere you died.. Mine you are to death, aye, and through death to life again--mine. And to-day is to-day and death not for you or me--yet awhile!"
When she was gone I turned to find this wounded man upon his knees, his head bowed above a little gold crucifix between his hands.
"Sir, what would you?" I questioned, struck by his expression, when at last he looked up.
"I make my peace with God, Señor, since I am soon to die--"
"Nay, sir, I do trust your hardships are ended--"
"Shall be, Señor, to-day, to-morrow, the day after?" said he, smiling faintly and shrugging his shoulders. "A sudden shot, steel i' the back--'tis better than death by famine in an open boat. You, Señor, have saved me alive yet a little, doubtless for your own ends, but my death walketh yonder as I know, death in form shapely and fair-seeming, yet sure and unpitying, none the less."
"Ha, d'ye mean yon woman?" I questioned.
"The Señorita Joanna--verily, Señor."
"Never think it!" quoth I. "'Tis wild, fierce creature, yet is she but a woman and young--"
Now hereupon this wounded man lifted weary head to stare on me, his eyes very bright and keen.
"Señor," says he, "either you do mock me, or you nothing know this woman. But I do know her well and too well. Señor, I have warred with and been prisoner to you English, I have fought Indians, I have campaigned again buccaneers and pirates these many years, but never have I encountered foe so desperate, so bold and cunning as this Señorita Joanna. She is the very soul of evil; the goddess of every pirate rogue in the Indies; 'tis she is their genius, their inspiration, her word their law. 'Tis she is ever foremost in their most desperate ploys, first in attack, last in retreat, fearless always--I have known her turn rout into victory. But two short months ago she vowed my destruction, and I with my thousands at command besides divers ships well armed and manned; to-day I am a woful fugitive, broken in fortune, fleeing for my life, and, Señor, Fate has brought me, through shipwreck and famine all these weary miles, into the grasp of her slender, cruel hands. Thus and thus do I know myself for dead man and shall die, howsoever I must, as becometh me."