I felt a chill sweep across me even at this slight check.  Had I dared too much?  Had I ventured too far?  I knew not, yet spoke my next words boldly, realizing that any retreat now would be impossible.

“Thou knowest little of men at such a moment; even careless hearts learn fear of God as they face the end.  Holy Mother! but ’t would even pale your black face, and put a stopper on that ribald tongue, were grim Death stalking at your very heels.  You may smile now, making reckless mock of the sacraments, but that hour will come when you will be as a child at the knee of Mother Church.  Ay, I was with the Chevalier to-day; ’twas the coming of that negro huckster which took me from his side before, and I seek now to complete the gracious work which then had well begun.  Surely thou wilt not stand between a dying man and his last confession!”

“Nay; not I. Let the poor devil have his chance, as may the good Lord grant me mine.  But, padre, I have only just returned from my last round among the prisoners, and am greatly wearied, nor will I journey that way again with you.  In truth, ’tis all I can well do to guide my own footsteps, without helping along a priest of thy weight.  So here, padre, take the key, and, mind ye, have it safely back in my hands before the ship’s bell soundeth the half hour.”

Hastily snatching the bit of iron he flung rattling on the deck at my feet, I paused merely long enough to favor the company with parting admonition on their probable future.  Then, glad enough to be thus easily rid of them, I lurched heavily forward into the narrow passageway.  Some coarse joke launched at my expense attracted the attention of those behindhand speeded me onward.

My heart throbbed in anxious anticipation of what unknown trial was at hand.  Such rare fortune as had thus far attended my efforts, seemed too remarkable to endure; nor was it impossible that, through some unforeseen mischance, the cup of success might yet be stricken from my very lips.  So far at least I had made no mistake; evidently this Pere Cassati was “hail fellow, well met” among these riotous guards aboard the “Santa Maria,” and I had played the part to their complete undoing.  But now I was facing a new experience, and stiffened myself to meet it boldly, uncertain still what trick fate might have in store.

The sentinel, whom I discovered facing forward, hardly more than two paces from that door having the figures “18” painted upon it, quickly lowered his gun as I lurched unsteadily into sight.  Greatly to my relief, as soon as he obtained distinct view of his unexpected visitor, he returned the piece carelessly to his shoulder, and leaned back, his elbow against the arm-rack.  He was a good-natured-looking fellow, with round, boyish face, upon which streamed the full glare of a swinging-lamp suspended from a chain fastened to an upper beam.  His unsuspicious appearance served greatly to reassure me.