"Quite true," assented Murray. "But what would you say to driving him ashore, eh?"
What O'Donnell would have answered to this I know not; for there was a sudden drumming of feet on the deck, and Moira cast herself into his arms.
"Oh, padre," she cried tearfully, "and are ye safe from the cannon? I waked in my bed with their roaring, and it came over me we were on the Santissima Trinidad once more, and poor Señor Nunez, the apothecary, groaning from his death-wound—and him that was looking forward to the quiet end of his days in the little house by Alcantara!
"And then I was thinking 'twas all a horrid dream. But the cannon blatted again, and the ship trembled, and there was a shriek at my very door. So out I ran in my shift, and Diomede the blackamoor was lying in his blood on the cabin floor, and Ben Gunn beside him a-praying. And with that I put on me enough clothing for decency's sake, and came to find ye, for my four bones are clattering with fear, and that's Heaven's truth!"
O'Donnell drew her close.
"There, there, acushla," he said with a tenderness he had only for her. "The worst will be over. There's naught for ye to fear."
She reached up and stroked his face.
"Troth, and I was thinking that same if I could but come at you, padre," says she. "But 'tis terrible fearsome to be sleeping by your lone self, and awake in the midst of a sea-fight."
Her father swore under his breath.
"Ah, 'tis I was the weak, foolish fellow to drag you into such a venture! There'll come a day I must answer——"