"Five minutes, and yon star comes to his southing," said the person he addressed.
"Then prepare; that moment marks thy death!"
The men looked significantly towards their rifles.
"Nay," cried this bloodthirsty freebooter, "my arm alone shall avenge my child."
He drew a pistol from his belt.
"Yonder is Oneida," sang out the man at the main-top; "she is within a cable's length."
"Heed her not. When the bell strikes, I have sworn thou shalt die!"
A pause ensued—a few brief moments in the lapse of time, but an age in the records of thought. Not a breath relieved the horror and intensity of that silence. The plash of a light oar was heard;—a boat touched the vessel. The bell struck.
"Once!" shouted the fierce mariner, and he raised his pistol with the sharp click of preparation.
"Twice!"