“Don’t kill him! we won’t need to eat him! Look yonder! We’re saved! we’re saved!”
Chapter Seventy Four.
A Light!
The man who had so unexpectedly interrupted the deadly duello, while giving utterance to his strange speech, kept one of his arms extended towards the ocean,—as if pointing to something he had descried above the horizon.
The eyes of all were suddenly turned in the direction thus indicated. The magic words, “We are saved!” had an immediate effect,—not only upon the spectators of the tragedy thus intruded upon, but upon its actors. Even rancour became appeased by the sweet sound; and that of the Irishman, as with most of his countrymen, being born “as the flint bears fire,” subsided on the instant.
He permitted his upraised arm to be held in restraint; it became relaxed, as did also his grasp on the wrist of his antagonist; while the latter, finding himself free, was allowed to retire from the contest.
O’Gorman, among the rest, had faced round; and stood looking in the direction where somebody had seen something that promised salvation of all.
“What is it?” inquired several voices in the same breath,—“the land?”