And as he lay there his life rose up before him as an avenging angel, and the image of his dead mother returned with a reproachful yet an appealing look in her eyes. He tried to banish the one and to turn his thoughts from the other, but failed, and at last in an agony of remorse, shouted the single word “Guilty!”
It seemed as if the cry had called Zeppa from the world of spirits—to which Rosco believed he had fled—for a few minutes afterwards the madman approached his mountain-home, with the blood still boiling in his veins. Apparently he had forgotten all about the pirate, for he was startled on beholding him.
“What! still there? I thought I had killed you.”
“I wish you had, Zeppa. It would have been more merciful than leaving me to die of hunger here.”
“Are you prepared to die now?”
“Yes, but for God’s sake give me something to eat first. After that I care not what you do to me.”
“Miserable man, death is sufficient for you. I have neither command nor desire to torture. You shall have food immediately.”
So saying, Zeppa re-entered the bush. In less than half-an-hour he returned with several cocoa-nuts and other fruits, of which Rosco partook with an avidity that told its own tale.
“Now,” said Zeppa, rising, when Rosco had finished, “have you had enough?”
“No,” said the pirate, quickly, “not half enough. Go, like a good fellow, and fetch me more.”