"Oho, shipmate—unbar! Tide's on the turn and we must aboard. And trust me, Martin, for your comrade as will see justice done ye. So come, Martin, you and my lady and let's aboard!"
"Aye, aye, Adam!" quoth I, "Better die o' solitude than live with a breaking heart. So cheerily it is, Adam!"
Then rising, I took my dear lady in my arms, and holding her against my heart, I kissed her hair, her closed eyes, her pale, unresponsive lips, and bearing her to the door, contrived to open it and stepped forth of the cave. And here I found Adam, pistol in hand, with divers of his fellows and the three gentlemen who scowled amain, yet, eyeing Adam's weapon, did no more than clench their fists and mutter of gibbets and the like.
"Look you, Adam," says I, "my lady is stunned of a fall, but 'twill be no great matter once we come aboard—let us go."
"Why then, Lord love you, Martin—hasten!" says he, "For tide's falling and it's all we shall do to clear the reef."
Reaching Deliverance Sands I saw the boat already launched and manned and, wading into the water, laid my lady in the stern sheets.
"Come!" cried Adam, reaching me his hand, "In with ye man—"
"Not I, Adam."
"Why, what now, comrade?" says he, staring.
"Now—my hand, Adam, and a prosperous voyage!"