"I forgive thee," I gently answered, as I bent over him, "and though 'twas a terrible thing, I bear thee no malice, and would not stand between thee and thy God."
"I have done thee a great favor," he muttered. "Thou wilt discover it sometime."
He babbled on a few moments at random. Of deeds of blood and terror, awful and ghastly; of men murdered in cold blood; of women and children put to death with torture, such as the mind of man could hardly conceive, by the thumbscrew and the stake; of burning ships and murdered crews. Then a look of cunning and avarice came over his ghastly face, and he tried to raise himself, but was too weak. He could only beckon me to draw near.
"Nearer," he whispered, "I will tell thee a secret, that will make thee rich beyond thy wildest dreams. It will be some recompense for the pain I have caused thee, and thou canst let a small portion be used in Masses for my soul. No one knows where it is concealed, save myself and the dead Herrick."
"Where is it hidden?" I asked listlessly, for in truth I cared little for the golden hoard, since one whom I loved could not share it with me.
"Nearer," he whispered, so low that only bending far over his white face, could I hear his voice. "Those pale ones who bend beside thee shall not hear it; 'tis for thy ear alone. Look upon the Island Eldorado, it is concealed——"
He stiffened himself; even as he did so, I knew that his race was run, for I could feel beside me the presence of that one who had beckoned him, and who with waiting boat was preparing to waft him over the dark stream, and into the dim unknown region from which no traveler returns.
The dying man had lifted himself until he sat erect, his dull, glazed eyes fixed far beyond me. He spoke, and with awe I recognized that his voice had regained all the strength and imperiousness with which it rang when he had reigned supreme, the lord and ruler of the savage crew.
"Some wine, José!" he cried. "The wine of the King of Spain. We will drink one more toast before we go; our time is short—long and weary the journey. Now, men, fill up to the brim, for I give you a toast to-night, such as you have never drunk e'er this, nor will again.
"'Tis a lady, pure, beautiful, divine, such a one as never graced this rough earth before. Had Eve been such as she, 'tis no wonder that Adam lost all, and counted it naught beside the glory of her deep eyes. Had Helen been one-half so fair, I wonder not that Paris for her sake braved all Greece and laughed at their rage. I give thee a lady, my comrades, more lovely than the pale blushing dawn, purer than the driven snow, with eyes whose deep blue outshines the azure sky, one whom England admires and adores—The Lady Margaret Carroll!"