“Did Stephanu come willingly?” I asked.

“As I was tellin’, the Prince chose him for guide to me, and he couldn’t have chosen a worse one.  If you’ll believe me, there wasn’t an ounce of comfort in the man from the start; and this morning, having put me in the road so that I couldn’t miss it, he turned back and left me—­in a sweatin’ hurry, too.”

I glanced at Marc’antonio, who had risen and was striding to and fro upon the ridge with his fists clenched.  There was mischief here for a certainty, and Stephanu’s behaviour confirmed it.  For a moment, however, I forbore to translate further, and resumed my catechising of Billy.

“In the second place you came with my release, and to bring me news, and—­with what purpose beside?”

“Why, with a message for the ship, to be sure.”

“The ship?” I stared at him.  “What ship?”

“Why, the Gauntlet ketch!  You don’t tell me,” said Billy, with a glance westward, where, however, the hills intervened and hid the coast from us—­“you don’t tell me you haven’t sighted her!  But she’s here, lad—­she must be here!  Your father sent home word by her that she was to be back wi’ reinforcements by the first day of November; and did you ever in your life know your uncle disappoint him?”

“Marc’antonio,” said I, “what is this I hear from Billy about a ship?”

Marc’antonio gave a start, and looked from me to Billy in evident confusion.

“Truly, cavalier, there was a ship.  I spied her there three days ago, at sunset, making for the island.”

“Was she the same ship that first brought us to the island?”

“She was very like,” he answered unwillingly.  “Yes, indeed, cavalier, I have no doubt she was the same ship.”

“And you never told me!  Nay, I see now why for these three days we have been hunting to the east of our camp, and always where the coast was hidden.  Yes, yes, I see now a score of tricks you have played me while I trusted to your better knowledge—­Marc’antonio,” I said sternly, “did you indeed believe so ill of me as that at sight of the ship I should forget my parole?”

“It was not that, cavalier; believe me, it was not that.  I feared—­”

“Speak on, man.”

“I feared you might forget our talks together, and, when your release came, forget also that other adventure on which I had hoped to bind you.  The Princess—­”

“Then your fear, my friend, did me only a little less injustice.  You have heard how my father perseveres for a woman’s sake; and I am my father’s son, I hope.  As for the Princess—­”

“She is in worse case than ever, cavalier, since they have contrived to get rid of Stephanu.”

“On the contrary, my friend, her case is hopeful at length; since this release sets us free to help her.”

We trudged back to the camp, pausing on the way while Marc’antonio skewered the deer’s legs and slung him on a pole between us.  As we started afresh Billy observed for the first time that I walked with a limp.