'So she is, and fairer than any queen to boot.' Ratsey gave me a questioning look, and I could see a little smile upon his face in the firelight.

'Ay, she is fair enough,' said he, as though reflecting to himself, 'but white and thin.

Mayhap she would make a match for thee--if ye were man and woman, and not boy and girl; if she were not rich, and thou not poor and an outlaw; and--if she would have thee.' It vexed me to hear his banter, and to think how I had let my secret out, so I did not answer, and we sat by the embers for a while without speaking, while the wind still blew through the cave like a funnel.
Ratsey spoke first.

'John, pass me the flask; I can hear voices mounting the cliff of those poor souls of the _Florida_.' With that he took another heavy pull, and flung a log on the fire, till sparks flew about as in a smithy, and the flame that had slumbered woke again and leapt out white, blue, and green from the salt wood.

Now, as the light danced and flickered I saw a piece of parchment lying at Ratsey's feet: and this was none other than the writing out of Blackbeard's locket, which I had been reading when I first heard footsteps in the passage, and had dropped in my alarm of hostile visitors.