"The d----d insolence of the man!" he exclaimed. "I'd like to have met you in my young days, yard-arm to yard-arm."
"I would have endeavored to occupy you, sir," said Jones, coolly; "and now I bid you farewell."
He shot one meaning glance at Elizabeth, and his lips seemed to form the words "six hours," as he departed from the room.
"Here is the warrant, sir," said Coventry. "Again I ask, and this time I ask my father, can nothing be done?"
"Nothing, sir, less as a father than in any other capacity. Sergeant, take your prisoner. Major Coventry, you will conduct him on the Serapis, and remain there as my representative until the execution is over. Sir, you have borne yourself well this day; I would shake you by the hand. Good-bye."
O'Neill clasped the proffered hand warmly, and then looked from Coventry, standing erect, immovable, white-faced, to Elizabeth, who was still sitting with bowed head, a world of entreaty in his glance. Coventry nodded and turned away. O'Neill stepped quickly to the girl's side, took her hand in his, bowed low over it, pressed a long kiss upon it.
"May you be happy!" he said. "Farewell!" She looked at him in dazed silence.
"Sir," he continued, turning back to Coventry, and saluting him, "I am ready. Lead on."
"Forward, march, sergeant!" commanded the officer, hoarsely, and with no backward look the little cortége moved from the room. The girl rose to her feet as if to start after them, but the old man restrained her.
"O'Neill--O'Neill--" rang through the hall--a wild, despairing cry--and then Lady Elizabeth sank down white and still at the feet of the admiral.