“Attention! My care of you ends here. The warden of the prison-ships will henceforth have you in charge.” At a signal his men fell back, and the crew from the ship’s long-boat took their places; the two officers saluted, and the corporal stepped aside.
“Attention! Forward! March!” the warden shouted, pointing with his sword to the boat; and the handful of dazed and miserable captives, like so many automatons, caught step and sullenly moved to the water. As Richard, who brought up the rear, passed Colborn, the latter whispered:—
“Your Joscelyn shall know,” and Richard’s eyes spoke his thanks.
Then the boat drew away from shore, carrying its freight of helpless despair to the plague-infected hulk rocking in the tide, the plaything of the winds, the sport of every leaping wave that cast its crystal fringes to the sun.
CHAPTER XII.
A MESSAGE OUT OF THE NORTH.
“I love thee, and I feel
That in the fountain of my heart a seal
Is set, to keep its waters pure and bright
For thee.”
—Shelley.