Of My Encounter Beneath Bartlemy's Tree

"Though another man might serve as well!" says I, "Of course?"

"Of course, Martin!"

At this I turned to scowl at the placid sea again.

"Any man?" says I at last.

"O Martin, no--how foolish under grow--'any man' might be evil as Black Bartlemy."

"I've heard I am much like him in looks."

"But then you are Martin and he was--Black Bartlemy."

After this we were silent a great while nor spoke again until we had traversed the whole length of Deliverance Sands, then: "What manner of man?" I demanded.

Now at this she turns to look at me and I saw their lips quiver to a little smile that came but to vanish again.

"Something your sort, Martin, but without your gloom and evil tempers and one who could laugh betimes."

"Sir Rupert?" quoth I.

"He was very gay and merry-hearted!" says she.

"Yet suffered you to be beguiled and cast adrift to your great peril!"

"But stayed to do his share of the fighting, Martin."

"Ha!" says I scowling, "'Tis great pity we may not change places, he and I!"

"Would you change places with him--willingly, Martin?"

"Aye--I would so!" At this she whipped her hand from my arm and turned to frown up at me whiles I scowled sullenly on her.

"Why then, Master Conisby," says she, "I would you were anywhere but here. And know this--when you scowl so, all sullen-eyed, I know you for the very image of Black Bartlemy!"