LIZ. (with her arms around Mariana; leading her away.) Come ’long, honey;—come ’long wid yo po’ ole Lizbette.... (exeunt Lizbette and Mariana, the latter sobbing.)
FATH. C. Gentlemen, I beg a great favor of you;—that the prisoner’s body be left in my charge.
BEL. His head should be stuck up on a pole for buzzards to pick at! (knocks the body contemptuously with his gun; Father Cuthbert puts out his hand deprecatingly.)
PIRATES. Ah!
FATH. C. I knew this man long ago,—and the law is now satisfied.
BEL. (reluctantly.) Well,—out of respect for you.
FATH. C. Thank you. (bows; kneels beside the body; the men turn to exit and Beluche in going picks up the little picture he had found on Pedro and thrown aside; he puts it in his coat pocket; exeunt men and Beluche; Father Cuthbert looks to see that they have all gone, takes from the ground a long, hooded overcoat which he had carried over his arm when he entered; touches Pedro who rises.) Put this on, (Pedro puts on overcoat.) and make the most of your chances. (Father Cuthbert pulls the hood over Pedro’s face.) Fortunately it is a new coat they have never seen.
PED. You have saved my life.
FATH. C. Go. Don’t forget about Mariana. (Pedro nods; exit.) God help him! (he goes to the grave, takes up a spade and fills in the grave quickly; enter Beluche.)