Ambrose Nast

Even as I did so, she continued her ministrations with the fire as if utterly unaware of my presence.

Finally, as I'd had to do once before in the past, I seized her by her shoulders and turned her directly towards me, attempting to shake her back into awareness.

The firelight flattered her soft, confused face in the most heartbreaking way.

It's him, she told me breathlessly.

He's come.

And she lifted her small hand to point far into the darkness.

I turned to the horizon line, which was shrouded in the darkest nocturnal grays and blues.

A full moon cast serene ripples across the bay.

There was a ship out there.

perhaps a mile away, an old three-masted trader with three cannon ports.

It appeared quite still in imposing silhouette.

He's seen his chance, Florence whispered, transfixed by the sight.

I guided her away from the fire as she struggled meekly against me, her body so frail.

The panic over possibly losing her once again made me more cruel with my tongue than I would have been otherwise.

I admonished her for her nonsense, said she could regale me with her absurd beliefs in the good light of day after sleep.

For now we were going back to the house, and she was getting into bed before she harmed herself.

You can't keep me from the Dutchman, she cried.

And at the speaking of that name, I confess I felt a real chill in my bones.

For while the poor creature in my arms was quite mad, the force of her conviction nevertheless summoned frightening images and possibilities.

I lifted her off her feet and swept her up to cradle her in my arms.