CHAPTER XVIII.
After writing these words I cast aside my pen, and, throwing myself upon the bed, buried my face in the pillow. I could feel the drumming pulses in my ears, and my heart swelled till it was like to burst within my bosom. Though I pressed my hot fingers against my close-shut eyes, I still could see my poor love's white, set face, the great hollows in his bearded cheeks, the blue veins on his thin temples, and the large eyes, one moment all love-lighted, the next, stricken with horror at the sight of my unfaith.
How long I lay there I can scarcely tell. It was many hours after noon when I heard heavy steps without my door, which suddenly began to shake as though one beat upon it with frantic hands.
"Who is there?" I cried, lifting my head.
"Oh! Mistress Margaret! a God's mercy—undo the door!"
I drew the bolt in haste, and Dame Barbara burst in and dropped down, weeping, at my feet.
"Lord love ye, Mistress Margaret! Lord help us both this day! They have sent off all our men to meet the blessed English ship—and we two poor women left behind!"
I could not think it true. I seized the weeping dame by her heaving shoulders and fairly dragged her to her feet, demanding what proof she had that this was so. She pointed dumbly to the window, and fell a-sobbing louder than before.
Then I looked out.
The Carolina frigate stood off the bar of Matanzas Bay, and over the waves, in the direction of the frigate, went a small boat impelled by the brawny arms of six swarthy Spaniards. With them were the English prisoners: I saw the honest face of Captain Baulk, and next him worthy Master Collins; also the three seamen of the Barbadian sloop; and another, whom I did not know, but guessed to be the second of the two unlucky messengers; and—in the midst of all—my dear love.