I sent, therefore, for a
fomentation, and while applying it thought no harm to tell him the
report from the Cove. To my astonishment it threw him into a transport,
though whether of rage or horror I could not at first tell. But he
jerked his leg from my grasp, and beating the straw with both fists he
cried out--
"I knew it! I knew it would be so! She is a witch--a daughter of
Satan, or his leman! It is her doing, I tell you. It is she who has
killed that fool Affonzo. She is a witch!" He fell back on the straw,
his strength spent, but still beat weakly with his fists, gasping
"Witch--witch!"
"Hush!" said I. "You are light-headed with your hurt. Lie quiet and
let me tend it."
"As for my hurt," he answered, "your tending it will do no good.
The poison of that hound of hell is in me, and nothing for me but to say
my prayers. But listen you"--here he sat up again and plucked me by the
shoulder as I bent over his leg. "The freight is not gone, and good
reason for why: it was never landed!"
"Hey?" said I, incredulous.
"It was never landed. The men toiled as she ordered--Lord, how they
toiled! Without witch-craft they had never done the half of it. I tell
you they handled moonshine--wove sand. The riches they brought ashore
were emptiness; vain shows that already have turned to chips and straw
and rubbish. Nay, sir"--for I drew back before these ravings--"listen
for the love of God, before the poison gets hold of me! Soon it will be
too late.
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