Despair had made the prisoner brave:
‘Then give me back my money, sir!
I am a captive,—not a slave.
You took my money and my clothes;
Take my life, too,—but let me know
How Mary and the children are,
And I will bless you ere I go.’
“The very moonlight through his hands,
As he stood supplicating, shone,
And his sharp features shaped themselves