Mehalah: A Story of the Salt Marshes

by S. Baring-Gould

'It is worth a great deal. It is a certain charm.'

'Indeed!'

'It preserves him who wears it from death by violence.'

At the word a flash shot out of the rushes, and a bullet whizzed past the stern.

George De Witt paused on his oars, startled, confounded.

'The bullet was meant for you or me,' said Mehalah in a low voice. 'Had the lanthorn been in the bows and not in the stern it would have struck you.'

Then she sprang up and held the lanthorn aloft, above her head.

'Coward, whoever you are, skulking in the reeds. Show a light, if you are a man. Show a light as I do. and give me a mark in return.'

'For heaven's sake, Glory, put out the candle,' exclaimed De Witt in agitation.

'Coward! show a light, that I may have a shot at you,' she cried again, without noticing what George said. In his alarm for her and for himself, he raised his oar and dashed the lanthorn out of her hand. It fell, and went out in the water.