“He consented?”
“He became very gracious because of the bribe,” replied she, “and then asked me to be present at the revel. ’Why,’ said he, ’should you not take part in it, if you would care so to do?’ As I was resolved to humour him, I was complaisant, and replied that nothing would be more agreeable to me; but even as I uttered these words, some inkling of the plan for our deliverance which we carried out was forming itself in my mind. My woman afterwards managed to leave the Lynches’ unobserved with the letter I wrote you, and gave it to the captain of the Scottish ship we passed on our way to Galway. My only fear was that he might inform the Governor, and so our plans would have been frustrated; but he has proved himself a true man, and one who may be trusted.”
“There is no confidence to be put in Sir Nicholas,” said I.
“The man is hard, stark, relentless,” said she, hotly, “but he shall find I am as hard, stark, and relentless as he is himself. Vengeance—vengeance, and that speedy, will I take!”
Never had I seen Grace O’Malley so carried away by passion as now. Her eyes were blazing fires; the line made by her lips was like the edge of a sword, so clear and sharp it was; the cheeks lost their colour and roundness, and, as she restlessly moved about, her black hair flew round her head like a coronal of quivering water-snakes.
“Vengeance—vengeance!” she cried.
Her vehemence bore me along as upon a fast-flowing tide.
“Vengeance—vengeance!” I shouted, so that my voice rang out far beyond the galley.
“It is in our own hands,” she said, more composedly. “The wine fleet from Spain is expected in Galway to-day or to-morrow—at any moment we may see their sails on the southern edge of the sea. Then, then,” cried she furiously, her anger rising again like the sudden, fierce blast of the tempest, “shall I teach Galway and Sir Nicholas to fear and dread my name.”
The wine fleet! This was a quarry, indeed!