“Think of your old parents, John, and all your sisters.”

“I thought of them before I started, sir, as Mr. Cary knows, and you know too.  I came here to keep my vow, and I am not going to turn renegade at the very foot of the cross.”

“Some one must go with you, Frank,” said Amyas; “if it were only to bring back the boat’s crew in case—­” and he faltered.

“In case I fall,” replied Frank, with a smile.  “I will finish your sentence for you, lad; I am not afraid of it, though you may be for me.  Yet some one, I fear, must go.  Unhappy me! that I cannot risk my own worthless life without risking your more precious lives!”

“Not so, Mr. Frank!  Your oath is our oath, and your duty ours!” said John.  “I will tell you what we will do, gentlemen all.  We three will draw cuts for the honor of going with him.”

“Lots?” said Amyas.  “I don’t like leaving such grave matters to chance, friend John.”

“Chance, sir?  When you have used all your own wit, and find it fail you, then what is drawing lots but taking the matter out of your own weak hands, and laying it in God’s strong hands?”

“Right, John!” said Frank.  “So did the apostles choose their successor, and so did holy men of old decide controversies too subtle for them; and we will not be ashamed to follow their example.  For my part, I have often said to Sidney and to Spenser, when we have babbled together of Utopian governments in days which are now dreams to me, that I would have all officers of state chosen by lot out of the wisest and most fit; so making sure that they should be called by God, and not by man alone.  Gentlemen, do you agree to Sir John’s advice?”

They agreed, seeing no better counsel, and John put three slips of paper into Frank’s hand, with the simple old apostolic prayer—­

“Show which of us three Thou hast chosen.”

The lot fell upon Amyas Leigh.

Frank shuddered, and clasped his hands over his face.

“Well,” said Cary, “I have ill-luck to-night:  but Frank goes at least in good company.”

“Ah, that it had been I!” said Jack; “though I suppose I was too poor a body to have such an honor fall on me.  And yet it is hard for flesh and blood; hard indeed to have come all this way, and not to see her after all!”

“Jack,” said Frank, “you are kept to do better work than this, doubt not.  But if the lot had fallen on you—­ay, if it had fallen on a three years’ child, I would have gone up as cheerfully with that child to lead me, as I do now with this my brother!  Amyas, can we have a boat, and a crew?  It is near midnight already.”

Amyas went on deck, and asked for six volunteers.  Whosoever would come, Amyas would double out of his own purse any prize-money which might fall to that man’s share.

One of the old Pelican’s crew, Simon Evans of Clovelly, stepped out at once.

“Why six only, captain?  Give the word, and any and all of us will go up with you, sack the house, and bring off the treasure and the lady, before two hours are out.”