And Yeo heaved a deep sigh.

Sir Richard.—­Steady, steady, good fellow!  If thou wouldst quit preaching, thou art no fool after all.  But tell us the story without more bush-beating.

So at last Yeo settled himself to his tale:—­

“Well, sirs, I went, as Mr. Leigh knows, to Nombre de Dios, with Mr. Drake and Mr. Oxenham, in 1572, where what we saw and did, your worship, I suppose, knows as well as I; and there was, as you’ve heard maybe, a covenant between Mr. Oxenham and Mr. Drake to sail the South Seas together, which they made, your worship, in my hearing, under the tree over Panama.  For when Mr. Drake came down from the tree, after seeing the sea afar off, Mr. Oxenham and I went up and saw it too; and when we came down, Drake says, ’John, I have made a vow to God that I will sail that water, if I live and God gives me grace;’ which he had done, sir, upon his bended knees, like a godly man as he always was, and would I had taken after him! and Mr. O. says, ’I am with you, Drake, to live or die, and I think I know some one there already, so we shall not be quite among strangers;’ and laughed withal.  Well, sirs, that voyage, as you know, never came off, because Captain Drake was fighting in Ireland; so Mr. Oxenham, who must be up and doing, sailed for himself, and I, who loved him, God knows, like a brother (saving the difference in our ranks), helped him to get the crew together, and went as his gunner.  That was in 1575; as you know, he had a 140-ton ship, sir, and seventy men out of Plymouth and Fowey and Dartmouth, and many of them old hands of Drake’s, beside a dozen or so from Bideford that I picked up when I saw young Master here.”

“Thank God that you did not pick me up too.”

“Amen, amen!” said Yeo, clasping his hands on his breast.  “Those seventy men, sir,—­seventy gallant men, sir, with every one of them an immortal soul within him,—­where are they now?  Gone, like the spray!” And he swept his hands abroad with a wild and solemn gesture.  “And their blood is upon my head!”

Both Sir Richard and Amyas began to suspect that the man’s brain was not altogether sound.

“God forbid, my man,” said the knight, kindly.

“Thirteen men I persuaded to join in Bideford town, beside William Penberthy of Marazion, my good comrade.  And what if it be said to me at the day of judgment, ’Salvation Yeo, where are those fourteen whom thou didst tempt to their deaths by covetousness and lust of gold?’ Not that I was alone in my sin, if the truth must be told.  For all the way out Mr. Oxenham was making loud speech, after his pleasant way, that he would make all their fortunes, and take them to such a Paradise, that they should have no lust to come home again.  And I—­God knows why—­for every one boast of his would make two, even to lying and empty fables, and anything to keep up the men’s hearts.  For I had really persuaded myself that we should all find treasures