HOW I HEARD TELL OF BLACK BARTLEMY'S TREASURE
Now scarce was I clear of the village than I was again seized of a deadly sickness and vertigo so that I stumbled and was like to fall, but that Penfeather propped me with his shoulder. In this fashion I made shift to drag myself along, nor would he suffer me stay or respite (maugre my weakness) until, following the brook, he had brought me into the green solitude of the woods.
Here then I sank down, sucking up the cool, sweet water 'twixt parched lips, drinking until Penfeather stayed me, lest I should do myself hurt thereby. Thereafter, from strength reviving, I bathed my divers wounds (the which, though painful, were of small account) and fell to cleansing my spattered garments as well as I might.
"So we're to be comrades, after all!" says Penfeather, watching me where he sat hard by.
"Aye—to-morrow!"
"And how goeth vengeance, shipmate?" At this I turned on him with clenched fist. "Nay, easy does it," says he, never budging, "for if 'twas the folly of vengeance brought ye in the peccadille, 'twas your comrade Adam Penfeather got ye out again—so easy all!"
"'Twas you fired the rick, then?"
"None other!"
"'Tis a hanging matter, I've heard!"
"Why a man must needs run some small risk for his comrade d'ye see—"