"Ay, ay," said Pirret; "'tis but white magic, gossip. There is no sin

therein, I do assure you. But proceed, good youth. This spell--in what

should it consist?"

"Nay, that I will incontinently show you," answered Dick. "Have ye there

the ring ye took from my finger? Good! Now hold it forth before you by

the extreme finger-ends, at the arm's-length, and over against the

shining of these embers. 'Tis so exactly. Thus, then, is the spell."

With a haggard glance, Dick saw the coast was clear between him and the

door. He put up an internal prayer. Then whipping forth his arm, he

made but one snatch of the ring, and at the same instant, levering up the

table, he sent it bodily over upon the seaman Tom. He, poor soul, went

down bawling under the ruins; and before Arblaster understood that

anything was wrong, or Pirret could collect his dazzled wits, Dick had

run to the door and escaped into the moonlit night.

The moon, which now rode in the mid-heavens, and the extreme whiteness

the snow, made the open ground about the harbour bright as day; and

young

Shelton leaping, with kilted robe, among the lumber, was a conspicuous

figure from afar.

Tom and Pirret followed him with shouts; from every drinking-shop they

were joined by others whom their cries aroused; and presently a whole

fleet of sailors was in full pursuit. But Jack ashore was a bad runner,

The Black Arrow