Quite a quarter of an hour passed away, and still with a wonderful power over her desires she sat upon the piece of sandrock waiting for the fulfilment of Mother Goodhughs promises.
Ill wait no longer, she cried at last, petulantly. I cannot keep my eyes closed like this. Where am I? How am I to find my way back home? Oh, what a sorry idiot am I! Ill open my eyes at once, and put an end to this mystery. Hark, whats that?
A low doleful wail was heard overhead, and as she listened it was repeated.
It was a seamew, she whispered, and that wicked hag must have brought me nearer the shore. Whats that?
She bent down a little, listening, for she fancied that she heard a voice, but the sound was not repeated. Then there was a gentle rustle of a leaf, as if some rabbit had passed by, but still she kept her eyes closed, with a lingering faith that the old womans words might prove true, and all the while her heart went throb throb against the flask containing the love philtre in her bosom.
All silent as the grave once more, and she trembled as she heard her own voice.
Ill count a hundred, she whispered to herself, and then
She did not finish her sentence, but began slowly under her breath to count one, two, three, four, five, six, and so on right away, heedless of a faint rustle repeated again and again, close at hand, and she went on getting slower and slower in a disappointed manner, as she reluctantly felt that she must keep her word, and open her eyes; and at last it was, Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred, and Help, help, help! Oh!
Mistress Annes voice was smothered, and she felt herself tightly held by strong hands. For as she came to the end of her counting task, and sharply opened her eyes, it was to gaze at a broad handkerchief held by two brown hands, drawn tightly across the next moment and secured behind her head, while a second stifled her cries as it was tied over her mouth.
There, my little birdie, said a rough voice, that will stop your singing for the present. If you cant breathe, give a kick, and well ease it off. There, there, dont struggle like that, or youll rumple your plumage.
Got her, lads? said another voice.
Got her, ah! I see her sitting on the stone there, fast asleep, crope up the bank, and off with my handkerchief, and clapped it over her eyes, while Morgan covered her mouth.
What are you going to do with her?
Help her to old Wat, I think, said the first voice. He always wants a wife.
Nay, lads; I shall keep her myself. Steady, lass! its no use to struggle.
Anne Beckleys heart sank within her breast as she wondered into whose hands she had fallen, and she trembled so that she could scarcely stand. The conversation that ensued the next moment, though, served as a stimulus, and she waited with bated breath, and without struggling, as the principal speaker considered the question, holding her tightly the while by the arm.
Where be going to take her? said a fresh voice.
Oh, up yonder, was the reply.
Nay, nay; that wont do. The skipper wont stand these games, my lad.
The skipper!
Those two words sent a thrill of hope through the heart of the girl as she asked herself could it be Captain Gil.
Yes, yes; it must be, she thought directly after; and these were some of the rough, adventurous men of whom she heard whispers at the Moat the crew of bold, daring fellows, who sailed round the world and braved all dangers, even laughing at the laws; for one of Captain Gils men had been taken before her father for some offence, and when the worthy baronet was about to condemn him to fine and imprisonment, amercing him in coin as well as time, he had leaned forward and whispered that in the justices ears which had made him reconsider the case and dismiss the prisoner in the end.
It was into the hands of these men she had fallen she felt sure, and should Captain Gil find out what was done she knew she had nothing to fear, unless, finding her in his power, he should carry her off to his ship somewhere in the little river and bear her away to be a rovers bride.
The silly little heart of Anne Beckley, full as it was of trouble, was ready to make room for this romantic notion, and she gave up all thought of resistance as her captors led her away, merely pointing to the bandage across her mouth, which half stifled
her.
Ah, you shall have that off, my dear, if you will not squeal, said the same voice; and the girl breathed more freely as the wrapper was taken away.
Now, be careful how you come or youll break your pretty neck, and then Curse it, here be the skipper.
Whats this? cried a well-known voice. Whom have you here? Mistress Anne Beckley?
Oh, Captain Gil, save me save me, cried the girl, stretching out her hands in the direction of the voice, and nestling close to him as his strong arm was thrown round her.
You dogs, how dare you? roared Gil, while, with a sense of indescribable joy, Mistress Anne held her head against his broad breast, heard the resonant utterances which seemed to echo in his chest, and listened to the firm, strong beating of his heart. She never for a moment thought of tearing away the bandage; but, when she did raise her fingers, Gils stout hand prisoned both of hers and held them tightly, where they stayed without resistance, nothing loth.