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lord. We are content, both with the recent action and with our lives.” The wiry arm squeezed about the small round tub of a buccaneer.

Henry sat very silently for a time. But finally he raised his tired eyes. “I sentence you to be hanged.”

“Hanged, my lord?”

“Hanged by the neck until you are dead.”

“You are changed, Sir.”

Sir Henry started forward and closely scrutinized the prisoners. Then his lips smiled. “Yes,” he said quietly, “I am changed. The Henry Morgan you knew is not the Sir Henry Morgan who sentences you to death. I do not kill ferociously any more, but coldly, and because I have to.” Sir Henry raised his voice. “Let the court be cleared, but guard the doors! I wish to speak privately with the prisoners.”

When they were alone he began:

“I know well that I am changed, but tell me what is the change you see.”

The Burgundians looked at each other. “You speak, Emil.”

“You are changed, Sir, in this way. Once you knew what you were doing. You were sure of yourself.”

“That is so,” broke in the other. “You do not know—-you are not sure of yourself any more. Once you were one man. It is possible to trust one man. But now you are several men. If we should trust one of you, we should be in fear of the others.”