"God comfort them, poor souls!" quoth I.
"Amen!" said he; and then in changed voice, and his keen gaze aloft amid the swelling sail, "What o' the lady Joanna, shipmate?" So I told him all the best I remembered of her and described how nobly she had died; and he pacing beside me said never a word.
"Martin," said he, when I had made an end, "I am a mighty rich man, yet for all this, I shall be something solitary, I guess."
"Never in this world, Adam, so long as liveth my dear lady—"
"Your wife, comrade—'tis a sweet word!"
"Aye—my wife. And then, am I not your sworn brother? So like brothers will we live together in England, and friends always!" And hereupon I clasped an arm about him.
"This is well, Martin," said he, gripping my hand. "Aye, 'tis mighty well, for nought under heaven is there to compare with true friendship, except it be the love of a noble woman. So now go, comrade, go to her who hath believed in you so faithfully, hath steadfastly endured so much for you—get you to your wife!"
End of Project Gutenberg's Martin Conisby's Vengeance, by Jeffery Farnol