Schillie.—"Then think of the fate you would have them live for. But one hour of mental agony, and they are safe in their Saviour's arms."
June.—"And, oh, Schillie, one more horrible fear I have. Suppose those dreadful guns do not fully complete their dreadful work. Think if some are left, wounded and maimed, yet more wounded in heart at the death of those they loved."
Schillie.—"Call them, and give each their choice."
They came, but it was only to group themselves in one close embrace about us. They replied not to the words we uttered, but looking as fearlessly as Schillie did down on the brazen mouths of death, they turned their loving eyes in unutterable affection towards us. The beaming light of Schillie's countenance seemed reflected on each young face, until we thought an halo of glory already surrounded them.
The two men tenderly lifted up Madame, and laid her moaning and unconscious at our feet, and then placed themselves on each side of the group.
"See," said Schillie, half smiling and waving her hand, "your last fear is groundless, it will take but one of those cannon to deliver us all at the same moment from this mortal coil. Let us lift up our hearts to God."
CHAPTER XLIV.
The minutes fled. Ever and anon a group of pirates would advance, and, as they gazed, pity, remorse, and even admiration seemed to blend in their swarthy countenances, as they looked at the motionless helpless group. Evidently reluctant to give the fatal signal for death, the pirate captain restlessly paced to and fro, only taking his eyes from us to look hurriedly on the sea. The hour was gone. The boat shot from the shore, bearing the fatal messengers of death. The pirate captain clenched his hands, and hurried up and down, like one in despair. Sometimes he looked as if he would speak to us, then turned more quickly away.