At last he ceased to struggle, and yielded himself for lost; and, conquering his terror as well as he could, be entrusted to me certain charges in respect of his wife and child, to enact if ever I should return to England. He died bravely, committing his spirit unto God.
But this dreadful passage wrought a strange effect in me. It filled me full of anger against Doctor Copicus and all his works. As I gazed upon the morass, which lay all shimmering and steaming in the sun-glare, I swore that I would bring the man to the bar of justice and judgment.
I stood there in the dank wood, in the dismal shade of the mangrove trees, and I raged—I, a weak, futile lad—against the man whose might was like a strong tower. And suddenly, as though deriding me, the voice of the volcan roared in thunder....
It came into my mind that the volcan was a demoniac creature of the Doctor enforcing and bodying forth his power; and, on the thought, I shook my clenched fist towards the place where it stood concealed.
But, ah, if I had but known!
It was becoming late; so I turned, and set off, wending slowly and heavily, to the Cells.
As I came forth from the wood, I spied divers of our men gathered together in talk, lying sprawling upon the cliff; and, coasting over to them, I sat down in the midst, and began to question them upon their lot in the island, and how it liked them. For I was willing to learn whether there might be any possibility of banding them together in a venture against the Doctor.
It appeared, however, that they were all well content with the new state of things, and to consort with the pirates.
Nay, they looked eagerly forward to go out on the account (as the saying is), and to take part in many a brave carouse at Caraccas or at Port Royal.