The other six they sent ashore again, bearing letters to Castell's friends, agents, and reeves, as to the transfer of his business and the care of his lands, houses, and other properties during his absence.

Also, they took a short will duly signed by Castell and witnessed, wherein he left all his goods of whatever sort that remained unsettled or undevised, to Margaret and Peter, or the survivor of them, or their heirs, or failing these, for the purpose of founding a hospital for the poor.

Then these men bade them farewell and departed, very heavy at heart, just as the anchor was hauled home, and the sails began to draw in the stiff morning breeze.
About ten o'clock they rounded the Nore bank safely, and here spoke a fishing-boat, who told them that more than six hours before they had seen the _San Antonio_ sail past them down Channel, and noted two women standing on her deck, holding each other's hands and gazing shorewards.
Then, knowing that there was no mistake, there being nothing more that they could do, worn out with grief and journeying, they ate some food and went to their cabin to sleep.
As he laid him down Peter remembered that at this very hour he should have been in church taking Margaret as his bride--Margaret, who was now in the power of the Spaniard--and swore a great and bitter oath that d'Aguilar should pay him back for all this shame and agony.

Indeed, could his enemy have seen the look on Peter's face he might well have been afraid, for this Peter was an ill man to cross, and had no forgiving heart; also, his wrong was deep.
For four days the wind held, and they ran down Channel before it, hoping to catch sight of the Spaniard; but the _San Antonio_ was a swift caravel of 250 tons with much canvas, for she carried four masts, and although the _Margaret_ was also a good sailer, she had but two masts, and could not come up with her.

Or, for anything they knew, they might have missed her on the seas.