CHAPTER VI--THE GOOD HOPE (concluded)

The moans of the wounded baron blended with the wailing of the ship's

dog. The poor animal, whether he was merely sick at heart to be

separated from his friends, or whether he indeed recognised some peril in

the labouring of the ship, raised his cries, like minute-guns, above the

roar of wave and weather; and the more superstitious of the men heard, in

these sounds, the knell of the Good Hope.

Lord Foxham had been laid in a berth upon a fur cloak. A little lamp

burned dim before the Virgin in the bulkhead, and by its glimmer Dick

could see the pale countenance and hollow eyes of the hurt man.

"I am sore hurt," said he. "Come near to my side, young Shelton; let

there be one by me who, at least, is gentle born; for after having lived

nobly and richly all the days of my life, this is a sad pass that I

should get my hurt in a little ferreting skirmish, and die here, in a

foul, cold ship upon the sea, among broken men and churls."

"Nay, my lord," said Dick, "I pray rather to the saints that ye will

recover you of your hurt, and come soon and sound ashore."

How!" demanded his lordship. "Come sound ashore? There is, then, a

question of it?"

The Black Arrow