"Stand close back against the wall," whispered Toby, "and don't speak a word."

They crowded back against the wall, alongside of the treasure, and looked towards the water-fall.

A dark object was rising from the shallow water at the foot of the fall. As they watched, another dark object appeared to come through from under the fall and apparently from behind it; and this object rose also from the shallow water near the foot of the fall, and took its place beside the other. One after another, five more of these dark objects came from under the fall and apparently from behind it, and stood upright in the shallow water.

There were now seven in all. They moved in a group towards the shore. Each of them had two legs, and each was muffled from top to toe in a single loose garment with baggy legs; they walked somewhat like a company of bears. They stood on the dry ground, and one of them proceeded to take off the loose garment with which he was muffled, while the others assisted him with evident deference.

First came off a close hood which covered his head, cheeks, and neck. As the watchers by the wall saw his head, they held their breath in terror, and Aunt Amanda clutched Freddie's arm. Around the head was a tight-fitting kerchief, knotted behind; in his ears were great round ear-rings; and gripped between his teeth was a long pointed knife.

Aunt Amanda gave a sign as if she was about to scream, but Toby quickly put his hand over her mouth.

As the man with the ear-rings got himself out of the legs of his loose garment, the party by the wall saw that he was a short and burly man, of a ferocious aspect. In a sash which he wore was stuck on one side a cutlass, and on the other a long pistol. He wore no coat, and his shirt was open at the throat. His arms showed from the elbows down, and they were thick with muscles. His trousers were knee breeches, buckled just below the knee, and he was very bow-legged; his calves were big and knotted.

When his outer covering had been removed, it was plain that he was perfectly dry from head to foot, except for water on his face and hands; and while the others were taking off their coverings, he withdrew with one hand the knife from between his teeth, and with the other hand wiped the water from his eyes and face. He then stuck the knife in his sash, waved his hands somewhat daintily in the air as if to dry them, took from his breeches pocket a large white handkerchief, completed with this handkerchief the drying of his face and hands, examined his finger-nails carefully, blew on them, and proceeded to polish them delicately with his pocket-handkerchief, at the same time swearing two dreadful oaths, in a low tone of voice, at the six men who were struggling with their coverings. When these had been removed, the six appeared in much the same style of dress as the first, and each bore a cutlass and a pistol; but their clothing was much ruder than his, and they had no ear-rings; instead of sashes they wore leather belts.

"Kerchoo!" rang out a sneeze as sharp as a pistol-shot, from the party by the wall.

"Dear me," said the Sly Old Codger, out loud, "I do believe I'm catching cold."

At the sudden discharge of the sneeze, the seven men jumped as if they had in fact been shot. Each one snatched out his cutlass with his right hand and his pistol with his left, and faced in the direction of the sneeze.

"Confound your cold," whispered Toby fiercely to the Sly Old Codger, "now we're done for."

The seven men with their cutlasses and pistols, with the ear-ringed man in the lead, tiptoed stealthily in the direction of the sneeze.

As they came closer to the party who were crouched against the wall, Aunt Amanda slipped down quietly to the ground at Toby's feet. The captain of the expedition had fainted.



CHAPTER XVI

CAPTAIN LINGO AND A FINE PIECE OF HEAD-WORK

The man with the ear-rings muttered something in a fierce undertone to his six followers. They spread out behind him in a wide line. With a stealthy step they came forward noiselessly. The party by the wall held their breath in terror. Nearer and nearer came the seven men, still in perfect silence. They reached the cowering company by the wall, leveled their pistols at their breasts, held up their cutlasses ready to strike, and looked at their leader for the command to kill.

At this moment the man with the ear-rings observed the form of Aunt Amanda on the ground. He stooped down and examined her, and stood up again. Then he eyed the company of travellers with a hard cold eye, and spoke deliberately and in a low voice. His manner of speech was somewhat stilted and precise, and scarcely what might have been expected of a pirate.

"The ceremony," said he, "will be deferred for the moment. I commend you meanwhile to perfect quietness; one movement, and the consequences may be fatal. A hint is sufficient. I perceive here a lady in distress. 'Tis a monstrous pity, indeed. I regret that we were unaware of the presence of a lady; had we known, we should certainly have taken our measures more fittingly. I crave your pardon. No one has yet accused Captain Lingo of rudeness to a lady. Ketch, put up thy cutlass and go straightway to the pool and wet this pocket-handkerchief. Be brisk, thou muddle-pated son of a sea-cook! Haste!"

The man called Ketch jumped as though he had been stung, and took from Captain Lingo's hand a fine white cambric handkerchief which the captain had produced from his breeches pocket, and running to the water moistened it and returned in great haste.

While this was going on, the poor captives were able to examine their chief captor more carefully. They remarked with surprise the fine quality of the handkerchief which he had handed to his man, and they were even more surprised to note the whiteness and fineness of the linen of his shirt. His breeches were of blue velvet, and his sash and the kerchief which bound his head were of crimson silk. On the fingers of each hand he wore three or four diamond rings, which sparkled brilliantly in the half-darkness. His stockings were plainly of silk, and the buckles at his knees and on his shoes were of polished silver, outlined in diamonds. His face was hard and cruel, but its unpleasantness may have been due to a long scar which crossed his mouth from his right cheek to his chin. When he smiled, as he did in referring to the lady in distress, the scar gave to his face a singularly evil expression.

Taking the wet handkerchief from Ketch's hand, he knelt beside Aunt Amanda and bathed her face and wrists, slapping her cheeks and temples smartly now and then with the handkerchief, and changing her position so that her head lay lower than her body. After he had worked over her with much care for a few moments, Aunt Amanda opened her eyes. She was staring at the frightful crooked smile of a strange man with rings in his ears and a kerchief on his head. She started up, bewildered.

"Where's Toby? Where am I? Who are you?"

"Captain Lingo, ma'am," said the strange man, "at your service."

"Let me up," said Aunt Amanda. She struggled to her feet, rejecting the assistance offered by the ear-ring'd man, and stood facing him, her bedraggled bonnet very much over her right ear. "Who are you?" she said again.

"Your humble servant, ma'am," said the strange man, smiling his crooked smile. "Captain Lingo, by name. A gentleman adventurer of the high seas. Owner of the treasure which you have discovered here in our little retreat. Known here on the Spanish Main as the Scourge of Ships, and loyal servant of his blessed Majesty King James, whom the saints defend. Your obedient humble servant to command." He made the lady a very courtly bow.

Toby whispered into Freddie's ear. "He can't be so terrible bad, not with all that polite way of talking. Don't be afraid. We'll be all right with this pirate. Who on earth is King James?"

Aunt Amanda was also much relieved by the pirate's polite address.

"As long as you are my obedient servant," said she, "I'll thank you to help us to get out of here as soon as possible. We didn't want to come in the first place, and we are in a hurry to get out."

Captain Lingo laughed heartily. "They are in a hurry to get out, lads," he said to his companions; and at this they all laughed uproariously.

"I don't see anything to laugh at," said Aunt Amanda. "If we don't get out of here soon, we'll catch our death of cold."

This made Captain Lingo laugh more heartily than before. "Ha! ha! ha! Their death of cold! That would be a rare fine thing, but a bit too slow, lads, eh?" And the other six laughed again, so that the walls of the chamber echoed with their mirth.

"What do you mean by too slow?" said Aunt Amanda.

"Madam," said Captain Lingo, "we are a little pressed for time. We really could not wait for you to die of colds."

"What?" said Aunt Amanda faintly, her feeling of confidence beginning to ooze away. "Do you mean to say——?"

"Madam," said the pirate, seriously, "I will put it to you plainly. Our treasure, which you have discovered, has taken a great deal of hard work to accumulate. We really couldn't bear to lose it. The people of this island, and a great many other people besides, have been trying for many years to find it. You have not only found it, but you have even gone so far as to open certain of our bags, in spite of the warning posted above your heads. Now picture to yourselves, dear madam and gentlemen, what consequences would certainly ensue if you were to leave—here—ahem!—alive."

"Oh!" gasped Aunt Amanda. "Leave—here—alive!"

"All the fruits of our industry would be lost, and our own safety would be imperilled. You will readily see that, of course. 'Tis a pity so many will have to die at once, for it will mess up the place very badly, and I always endeavor to be neat. But why, why did so many of you come at once? Couldn't you have come, say two at a time? It would have made so much less trouble."

"Ho!" said Mr. Punch. "Hif we 'ad only stopped at 'ome, hall of us!"

"However, I do not wish you to feel too keenly the trouble you are putting us to; my brave lads will cheerfully put up with the inconvenience, though I must confess the amount of blood will be quite unusual, and so many bodies will be troublesome to bury. I wish it were possible to have you walk the plank. However, pray do not bother too much on our account."

"We weren't thinking about you at all," said Toby. "We were thinking about ourselves."

"Oh," said Captain Lingo, in a tone of disappointment. "I beg your pardon; I misunderstood. At any rate, we will now prepare for our little ceremony. If there are any trifling articles of jewelry and the like, I will be pleased to——"

"But this boy!" cried Toby. "And this lady! You don't mean to—you can't mean——"

"Not for worlds," said Captain Lingo, "would I be rude to a lady. I trust you will find my conduct towards the lady beyond reproach. There shall be no rudeness of any kind. Merely a quick stroke, and all will be over. No violence, no roughness of any kind; not a word to offend the most sensitive ears. A single stroke, and the affair is done. And let me tell you, I have here with me a Practitioner who is very expert in this sort of business: our friend Ketch, in fact, who was so kind as to wet the handkerchief for the lady. I assure you that you are in great luck to fall into the hands of such a Practitioner; he will make it as pleasant for you as possible; one stroke only, I promise you. With one stroke of a cutlass, he is able to slice off a head as neatly as you could do it with a broadaxe; there are very few who can do it with a cutlass, let me tell you that. Many men have become famous by being operated on by Ketch. I remember a case—However," he said, looking about him as if considering something, and speaking rather to himself than to the others, "it would be difficult to bury the bodies here, and the light is not very good. I think, yes, I think it had better be done outside. You are already wet, and I trust that another immersion will not inconvenience you too much. Lads," he said to his six men, "put on the rubber suits, and help our friends under the fall. Look alive, now."

The six men immediately ran to their rubber suits and began to put them on. While they were doing this, Toby put one arm about Freddie and the other about Aunt Amanda. She lowered her head to his shoulder for a moment, but she soon raised it, and standing very erect she said, "Very well, if it must be, it must. It's easy to see that this bloodthirsty villain means every word he says; but I ain't going to whimper; I'm the captain, and I order that everybody keep up his courage, and wait and see what will happen."

"Ay, ay, ma'am," said the Churchwarden.

"Do you know," whispered the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg, "I believe that we are in a good deal of—er—danger."

Freddie put his hand in Toby's, and held it tight. "You keep close to me if you can," said Toby, squeezing his hand. "We may be rescued at the last minute; you never can tell. Don't lose your nerve."

Freddie was trembling with fear, and the hand which held Toby's was as cold as ice; but he said nothing; the others were being brave, and he resolved that he would be as brave as the rest, up to the very last. He began to think of his mother and his father, and to wonder what would become of them if he should be—but he forced himself not to think of that; he pressed his lips tight together, and commanded himself to be brave.

The six pirates returned, clad in their baggy rubber suits, and looking very much like bears walking on their hind legs. They brought with them Captain Lingo's suit, and helped him to get into it. When he was encased like the others, with only his hands and face showing, he said:

"Now, madam, I will assist you to the fall."

"We'll attend to that," put in Toby, quickly. "Come on, Mr. Punch."

Aunt Amanda's cane having been lost, she found more difficulty in walking than formerly, but Toby and Mr. Punch supported her to such good effect that she kept up with the others very well on their march into the water towards the fall. All, except the pirates, shivered as the cold water came again around their knees, and they looked with fear upon the tumbling cataract which they were required to go under. There was no help for it, however; the seven pirates surrounded them and persuaded them to go on. They stood in a forlorn group in the quiet water near the foot of the fall.

"Now, madam," said Captain Lingo, "I will help you under."

Toby and Mr. Punch, feeling that the pirate knew the way better than they did, resigned Aunt Amanda to his care, not without some fear that the villain might deliberately drown her on the way through. He made her kneel in the water, and then lie flat; and with a strong arm he pulled her under the water-fall and out of sight.

"You're next," said a deep voice to Freddie, and Ketch the Practitioner seized him and plunged with him under the water; and in an instant they had disappeared beyond the fall.

One after another the miserable, shivering victims were assisted by the pirates under the water, and one by one disappeared. The Old Codger with the Wooden Leg was the last, and one of the pirates returned for him. When he had followed the others, the great half-dark chamber remained as it had been before, in its empty solitude and gloom, without an ear to hear the steady rush of water pouring incessantly down its fall.

On the outer side of that rushing fall was a scene very different indeed. The pirates and their captives stood under a blazing sun, looking across a wide and beautiful landscape. Behind them, in the side of a high hill overgrown with bushes, was the hole by which they had come forth, and across the inside of this hole was the curtain of falling water. Freddie wondered how anyone had ever had the courage to plunge for the first time through that curtain into the unknown dark. The heat of the sun was very grateful, and the clothing of the soaked travellers began to dry perceptibly at once. The pirates took off their rubber suits.

Beneath the observers the ground sloped down into a broad valley, chequered with grass meadows and dotted with trees. To their left, as they gazed out across the landscape, the ground rose from the valley by easy stages to a great height, no doubt forming the landward side of the black cliff which bordered the ocean.

To the right, the country rolled gently away from the valley in a vast unbroken forest, a shimmering green ocean of tree-tops as far as the eye could see. Far, far off where the forest rose in a kind of mound, Freddie thought he could see what looked like the top of a round tower, just emerging above the haze of trees.

The pirates and their captives were standing on a little grassy plateau, on which were great boulders here and there, and a few wide leafy trees. Two or three fallen logs were lying near the edge of the plateau, where it began to slope downward.

Captain Lingo stepped out of his rubber suit, spread out his fine white handkerchief on a boulder to dry, and twiddled his moist fingers daintily in the air, after which he blew on his finger-nails and polished them on his shirt-sleeves.

"We are now ready," said he, "for the ceremony. Ketch, thy cutlass."

Ketch drew his cutlass from his belt and handed it to the captain. It glittered wickedly in the sunlight. The captain ran his thumb along its edge, and nodded his head with satisfaction.

"It will do," said he. "One stroke for each will be quite sufficient. We will now proceed with the ceremony."

He restored the cutlass to the Practitioner, who raised it high and gave a swinging slash downward with it, as if to test his eye and arm. The Practitioner then rolled his right shirt-sleeve up to his shoulder; he was the largest man in the party, and his arm was the arm of a blacksmith.

"Stop!" cried Mr. Punch. "One moment! Captain Lingo! You are a Henglishman, aren't you?"

"I am an Englishman," said the Captain, swelling out his chest. "Long live King James!"

"Hi am a Henglishman also," said Mr. Punch, swelling out his chest. "You carn't murder a fellow-countryman in cold blood, now can you? Hi s'y, you couldn't do that, you know. We're both subjects of her gracious Majesty, we are. Long live Queen Victoria!"

"Who?" said Captain Lingo.

"Queen Victoria!" cried Mr. Punch. "She'd never, never forgive you hif——"

"Never heard of her," said Captain Lingo calmly. "I'm a loyal subject of his Catholic Majesty King James the Second,—may all the saints defend him!"

"King James the Second!" cried Mr. Punch. "Why, 'e's been dead these two 'undred year, nearly! 'E's as dead as Christopher Columbus!"

Captain Lingo started violently, and his face became dark with anger.

"Dead? King James dead? Do you mark that, lads? He calls his blessed Majesty dead! Aha! thou renegade Englishman, thou hast imagined the death of the king! A felony, by St. George! And the punishment is death! What, thou reprobate, dost thou not know 'tis a felony, punishable by death, to imagine the death of the King?"

"But 'e is dead. One carn't live two 'undred years, you know."

"You hear!" said Captain Lingo, his voice quivering with rage. "He imagines the death of the King! Any judge in the kingdom would sentence him to die for that! 'Tis the law! But enough talk. Captain Lingo is not the man to stand by and see the law defied! For that, my pretty Englishman, thou shalt die the death twice over. There shall be violence in thy case. Thou shalt wish thou hadst never been born. Thou shalt be kept for the last. Ay, ay; there shall be fine sport at his taking off, eh, lads? Enough! Proceed with the ceremony. To imagine the death of the King! Ketch, art thou ready?"

"Ay, ay, Captain," said the Practitioner.

The captain cast his angry eye over the terrified group shivering in their damp garments. "One of you must be first. Who shall be first? Let me see." Each person quailed as the pirate's eye rested on him. "One moment. We will decide it by chance."

He plucked seven sprigs of grass, and broke them into varying lengths. He then held them in his hand so that only the even ends showed. "Now choose," said he. "The longest blade shall be first."

Each drew a blade of grass, except Mr. Punch, who had already been reserved for the last. "Thou shalt be quartered alive," said the captain to him. "To dare imagine the death of the King!"

Freddie trembled as he drew his sprig of grass; but he did not draw the longest; the longest blade fell to Mr. Hanlon, and the next to Freddie. Mr. Toby was third, the Churchwarden fourth, the Sly Old Codger fifth, Aunt Amanda sixth, and the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg seventh.

"We will use that fallen log," said the captain, and led the way towards it. He was now very stern; all his politeness had been dissipated by the offense of Mr. Punch.

"Toby," said Aunt Amanda, as they were moving towards the place of the ceremony, "I hope you will excuse me for all the cross words I have ever spoken to you."

"Oh, nonsense, Aunt Amanda," said Toby, sniffling a little, "I've been a trial enough, I know it. What will become of the shop?"

"Poor Freddie!" said Aunt Amanda. "It just breaks my heart to see him so brave. He's so young to have to—to—And his poor mother! Oh dear, oh dear!"

"Now then," said Captain Lingo, "you may sit down on the grass until your turns come."

Toby helped Aunt Amanda to sit down. Freddie sat beside her and pressed his white face against her shoulder. The others grouped themselves on the grass about them; all except Mr. Hanlon, who, knowing that his time had come, stepped forward and stood before Ketch the Practitioner, who was feeling the edge of his cutlass.

One of the pirates produced from his pocket some strong twine, and bound Mr. Hanlon's arms behind him. On a sign from Captain Lingo, this man led Mr. Hanlon to the fallen log, and made him kneel beside it and rest his head face down upon it, so that there was a good view from above of the back of his neck.

The dreadful moment had arrived.

Ketch the Practitioner took his place by Mr. Hanlon's side, planted his feet firmly, wide apart, tucked in his right shirt-sleeve at the shoulder, and raised his gleaming cutlass high above his head.

A scream from Aunt Amanda made him hesitate for an instant, but only for an instant; as Aunt Amanda and Freddie closed their eyes and buried their faces in their hands, the cutlass flashed twice around the head of Ketch and came down with a swift and horrible slash straight upon the back of Mr. Hanlon's neck.

A single stroke was enough; Mr. Hanlon's head rolled off upon the ground.

"Well done, Ketch," said Captain Lingo, quietly. "I doubt if there's another hand on the Spanish Main could have done it."

Ketch blushed with honest pride at these gracious words. He swung his bloody cutlass in embarrassment. All the pirates turned towards the pale group on the grass, and Captain Lingo said, "Next!"

Freddie stood up. His knees began to tremble under him, and his heart was beating so fast that he could hardly breathe. Aunt Amanda flung her arms about him as he stood beside her, and cried "No, no, no!" in a voice of anguish.

All eyes were on the Little Boy, as he stood awaiting his dreadful fate, with Aunt Amanda's arms about him. His time had come. His friends were waiting to see if he would be brave, and though his face was white his courage did not fail him. He looked at them in farewell, and each one gave him a tearful gaze in return.

He turned his eyes towards the warm and friendly landscape, for a last look at the world he was about to leave. It would be hard to go, and he would need all his strength to bear the—A loud cry from Freddie startled all the others. "Look!" he cried, and pointed a shaking finger.

They looked, and what they saw was Mr. Hanlon.

By the log on which his head had been cut off, Mr. Hanlon was standing, his hands behind his back, and his head in its proper place on his shoulders. He was smiling and bowing, and as the astonished spectators gazed at him with their mouths open, he sprang lightly into the air and clicked his heels together as he came down.



"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Toby in spite of himself. "Freddie, we've seen that little act before, haven't we?"

Freddie nodded. He remembered very well the first time he had seen Mr. Hanlon's head cut off, at the Gaunt Street Theatre at home; he wondered that he had not thought of it before.

Captain Lingo was plainly very angry. His face turned a purple hue, and the scar across his mouth showed very white. He fingered his knife dangerously, and at the same time glared at Ketch, who was scratching his head in bewilderment. The captain did not raise his voice, but he spoke with deadly earnestness.

"A fine workman thou, friend Ketch," said he. "Truly a pretty hand with a cutlass, thou son of a sea-cook. I've a mind to let a little of thy blood with this knife, thou scurvy knave. But I will give thee one more chance. If thou fail again, by St. George thou shalt die the death. Once more, now! And remember!"

It was Ketch's turn now to tremble. He knew very well that Captain Lingo would do as he had said, if he should fail a second time. His own life hung on a thread now.

"Ay, ay, Captain," he said huskily, and led Mr. Hanlon back to the fallen log and made him kneel as before.

As Mr. Hanlon's head lay across the log, he turned it round towards his friends, and gave them a long slow wink.

Ketch's cutlass flashed as before. Round his head it swung twice, and down it came with a slashing stroke straight and true on the back of Mr. Hanlon's neck. Off rolled Mr. Hanlon's head upon the ground.

Everyone watched breathlessly; and Ketch did not breathe at all.

For a second Mr. Hanlon's body continued to kneel headless beside the log. Then the head on the ground popped like a flash to the neck it belonged to, and fastened itself accurately there in place. Ketch turned ghastly pale.

Mr. Hanlon sprang up, opened his mouth wide in a soundless laugh, bowed to Captain Lingo, jumped lightly into the air, and clicked his heels together three times as he came down.

Captain Lingo's face was a terrible sight to see. He gazed steadily at Ketch. The unfortunate Practitioner was shaking like a leaf. Captain Lingo slowly drew his knife, and held it behind him in his right hand. With the other hand he pointed to the ground before him.

"Hither, dog," he said, in a quiet, even voice.

Ketch hesitated, gave a wild look about him, and advanced slowly towards his captain. When he reached him, he fell on his knees and held up his shaking hands.

"No! no! no! captain," he cried. "Don't do it! Oh, please don't do it! I done my duty always, and I ain't never failed before! Remember my poor old mother, captain! Give me one chance, captain, just one! Don't kill me! Captain! Captain!"

The expression on Lingo's face did not change; but the glitter in his eye became even more murderous than before. He said not a word, but with his left hand snatched off the kerchief which bound Ketch's head, and seized him by the hair; and with his other hand he brought the knife swiftly around in front and lowered it to plunge it into Ketch's heart.

At that moment Aunt Amanda, forgetting her lameness, struggled to her feet, hobbled to the kneeling man, and throwing her body between him and the knife, shrieked at Captain Lingo.

"Stop! stop! you bloodthirsty villain! Ain't you got no shame? What are you going to murder him for? Ain't he done the best he could? You're a big bully, that's all you are! You ain't a man at all, you're a monster! Put up that knife, and take your hand out of his hair! Ain't you ashamed of yourself?"

Captain Lingo was taken completely by surprise. His eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped; he was so astonished that he took his hand from Ketch's hair and put up his knife.

"That's the idea," said Aunt Amanda. "You're more of a man than I thought. Mr. Ketch, you had better get up."

"Madam," said Captain Lingo, making her a bow, "'tis a bold action and generous. I trust I am able to respond to it in kind. My duty to you, ma'am; your obedient humble servant. Ketch, thou white-livered dog, get up, and thank this lady for thy life."

Ketch, still pale and trembling, stood up, and seizing one of Aunt Amanda's hands in both of his, made a low bow over it and kissed it fervently. By the look in his eyes it was plain to see that he was from that moment her devoted slave.

"Madam and gentlemen," said Captain Lingo, "I am sorry to inform you that the ceremony is over, until I can obtain another Practitioner to take the place of Ketch. I blush with shame when I think how I boasted of his skill. I hope you will not think I meant to deceive you. I assure you I am more disappointed than you can possibly be. I am provoked and disgusted and irritated; I am annoyed; I can't deny it. There is nothing to do but to retire to our home in High Dudgeon."

"What's that?" said Aunt Amanda. "Is it a place, or is it just the way you feel?"

"Ask me no more," said Captain Lingo, turning away. "I must confer with my lads about our next step."

"Are you going to take us with you?" asked Aunt Amanda.

"We shall certainly give ourselves that pleasure, madam," said the captain, rather stiffly. "Lads, come with me."

On a sign from the captain, one of the pirates cut the twine which bound Mr. Hanlon's hands, and the restored one joined his friends on the grass. The seven pirates moved away to a spot some score of yards apart, where they all sat down on the ground and engaged at once in animated talk.

"I conclude," said the Churchwarden, "though I don't know as I'm right about it, and other people may have a different opinion, that we're a good deal better off—"

"What I say is," said Toby, clapping Freddie on the shoulder, "what I say is, three cheers for Mr. Hanlon!"

"Yes!" said Freddie. "That's just what I said that day after the theatre!"

"I wonder," said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg, "I wonder if—er—ahem!—if Captain Lingo has—er—such a thing as a pinch of snuff about him."



CHAPTER XVII

HIGH DUDGEON AND LOW DUDGEON

The pirate captain and his men rose from the ground, and Captain Lingo, in his politest manner, requested his captives to follow him. The entire party moved down the slope into the valley, and after a walk of some quarter of a mile entered a grove of trees. In this grove were tethered ten handsome mules, of which seven were saddled and three were laden with packs.

One of the pack-mules was quickly unladen, a fire was built, and in ten minutes the hungry guests and their hosts were making a very good breakfast of bacon, fried by Mr. Leatherbread, as the captain called him, one of the pirates to whom the business of the frying-pan was left by general consent. When the bacon had been washed down with clear cold water from a spring near by, and the mule had been packed again, Freddie and Aunt Amanda were assisted into the saddles of the two smallest mules, and the captain mounted into the saddle of the largest.

"Now look here, Captain Lingo," said Aunt Amanda, "I want to know where we are going and all about it. The idea of me sitting here a-straddle of a mule! And this bonnet simply ruined, and my dress just about fit to go to the rag-bone man, and my hair—Look here, Captain Lingo, I ain't going a step on this mule until you tell me what—"

"Pardon me, my dear lady," said the captain, "but I must ask you to put up with my little whims a short while longer. I beg the pleasure of your society upon a little journey; nothing more. I assure you the country is very interesting. May I not promise myself the bliss of your approval?" He turned to the six pirates with a scowl. "Mount the rest of them, scoundrels!"

Four of the captives were mounted by the pirates on the remaining mules, and the procession moved out of the grove into the open valley.

Freddie had never ridden a mule before, and he was delighted. When they entered, as they soon did, the great forest which they had seen from the plateau, Freddie was more than ever delighted. After the blazing sun of the open country, the shade of the forest was delicious. The trees were huge, and while the trunks were far apart, their branches made a leafy roof overhead which was almost unbroken. Flowering plants grew everywhere; vines climbed the trees; little streams murmured here and there; and the only sound which disturbed the repose of the forest was the occasional screech of a parrot and the occasional chatter of monkeys. The first time Freddie heard the sudden scream of a parrot in the stillness he was thoroughly alarmed, but when he learned what it was, and saw the flash of the bird's plumage between the trees, he forgot all about his danger, and for the rest of the day he gave himself up to the pleasure of watching for parrots and monkeys among the branches.

The Sly Old Codger turned in his saddle and said to Toby, who was riding behind, with Mr. Punch walking between:

"A work of nature, my dear friend, a real work of nature. So beautiful! Parrots and monkeys flitting about overhead, the primeval forest stretching its bosky arms above us in all directions—so bosky! What one might call a real work of nature; so very, very bosky."

"Right you are," said Toby. "It puts our Druid Hill Park in the shade, that's a fact; makes it take a back seat and play second fiddle, as sure as you're born."

"Hi beg your pardon," said Mr. Punch. "'Ow can a park sit down and play a fiddle?"

All day long they moved onward, single file, further and further into the depths of the forest. At noon they halted for a luncheon of fried bacon, prepared by Mr. Leatherbread. The afternoon wore on, and the forest became gloomier and gloomier about them as they marched; the silence grew almost terrifying; and all the pleasure which Freddie had felt in the morning vanished. Night fell, and the procession entered a little clearing, and there the pirates made camp for the night.

After a supper of fried bacon, prepared by Mr. Leatherbread, the whole party retired to rest, each on a mattress of green branches and leaves, covered with blankets. The night was mild, and when the last blanket had been made ready the moon rose and tinged the tops of the trees with silver; and while Freddie was watching the moon as it climbed higher, he fell asleep. Aunt Amanda did not go to sleep so soon.

Ketch the Practitioner had devoted himself very specially to her in preparing her resting-place. While he was spreading the branches and blankets for her, she said to him:

"Ketch, where are we going?"

"Not so loud, ma'am," said he. "We are going to High Dudgeon."

"High Dudgeon! What's that?"

"S-sh! When we're disappointed, or disgusted, or vexed, we always go to our home in High Dudgeon."

"Is that where you live?"

"Part of the time, ma'am. Mostly we are away at sea or on the Island; but when anything goes wrong, and we're angry about it, we always go home and stay there, in High Dudgeon. Yes, ma'am."

"And what are they going to do with us when they get us there?"

"S-sh! You'll be in great danger there. If you can find any way to escape from there, I advise you—S-sh! Not another word. Captain Lingo is looking this way. I must go."

Aunt Amanda did not sleep very well that night.

In the morning, after a breakfast of fried bacon, prepared by Mr. Leatherbread, the company resumed its march.

At noon, a halt was made beside a spring for rest and food, and here Mr. Leatherbread prepared a luncheon of fried bacon.

In the evening, as the travellers were plodding onward, Ketch walked for a time at the head of Aunt Amanda's mule. Aunt Amanda leaned forward and said to him:

"Ketch, are we going to have more bacon tonight?"

"No, ma'am," said he, in a low voice. "We'll have supper in High Dudgeon. My old mother's the cook there. You heard me mention her yesterday morning. I've an idea there'll be pigeon pies for supper. And mark what I'm saying to you, ma'am." His voice sank to a whisper. "If you get a pigeon pie for supper, look careful to see what's inside of it before you eat it."

"Mercy on us!" said Aunt Amanda. "Are they going to poison us?"

But Ketch slipped away in the gathering darkness, and said no more.

They had gone but a few hundred yards further, when, at the moment when the darkness of night was making ready to blot out everything, they suddenly emerged into a round grassy clearing enclosed by the forest, where the light was better, and over which a star or two could be seen glimmering in a pale blue sky. In the midst of this clearing rose a tower.

It was a round tower, built of stone; its top came scarcely to the top of the surrounding trees, and it was in fact not more than two stories high; it appeared, with its wide girth, low and squat. Its sides were pierced here and there with deep and narrow slits, for windows, and on one side was a heavy oaken door, with great iron hinges and an iron lock. Through two or three of the upper slits in the wall glimmered a light from within. It was otherwise dark and forbidding.

Aunt Amanda found Ketch at her mule's head again. She leaned forward and said to him:

"Is that High Dudgeon?"

"No, ma'am. That's Low Dudgeon."

"Low Dudgeon? What do you mean by Low Dudgeon?"

Ketch looked at the tower and shuddered. "I don't like to talk about it, ma'am. I don't like the place. It's the place where we used to live long ago, before we built High Dudgeon. There's none of us wants to live there now. We haven't lived there since—" Ketch paused, and shuddered again, and evidently decided not to go on.

"There's a light up there," said Aunt Amanda. "Does anybody live there?"

"No, ma'am," said Ketch. "Nobody lives there."

"But there's a light," said Aunt Amanda. "Surely there must be somebody there."

"There is, ma'am; there is; thirteen of 'em."

"Thirteen what?"

But Ketch only shuddered again, and would say no more.

Aunt Amanda noticed that instead of going straight onward past the door of Low Dudgeon, the pirates led the file in a wide course away from it, along the edge of the clearing, as if to avoid coming near to it; and when the procession had thus skirted the clearing and entered the forest again on the other side, leaving the low tower behind, a sigh, as if of relief, went up from Ketch and all the other pirates; except, however, from Captain Lingo himself, who appeared to be wholly indifferent.

"How much further?" said Aunt Amanda to Ketch.

"About a mile, ma'am," said he.

The last mile of their journey was a long mile, and it was traversed in perfect darkness. The moon had not yet risen. Not a word was spoken, and there was no sound except the pad of the mules' feet and the breaking of twigs and branches as the travellers pushed their way through. The prisoners were in a state of greater nervousness and anxiety than before, and as they neared the place where their lives were to be disposed of in one way or another, their sense of uncertainty became almost unbearable. When it seemed that they must be close to the fateful place, the procession suddenly halted, and at the same instant the screech of a parrot startled the silence and made each of the prisoners jump.

"It's only the captain," said Ketch. "It's a signal."

Immediately, as if in response, there came from a distance in advance the note of a cuckoo, three times repeated. The procession moved forward.

A moment or two later, the whole company came forth from the forest under the stars, and stood on the edge of a wide round clearing, grown high with grass and weeds. In the midst of this clearing rose a tower.

"High Dudgeon," said Ketch over his shoulder.

This also was a round tower, built of stone; but it was very tall, much taller than the highest trees, and from the top there must have been a view of all the surrounding country, even as far as the hill within which was the treasure cave; from the number of deep and narrow slits which served as windows it must have been six or seven stories high. The top of the tower was flat, with battlements around the rim. As a fortress, it seemed to be impregnable; as a dwelling-house, it was very dismal indeed. It was totally dark. The captives trembled at the thought of being imprisoned in such a place.

The wayfarers proceeded in their single file directly to the great iron-bound oaken door of the tower, and those who were mounted got down. Ketch assisted Aunt Amanda and Freddie to alight, and having done so he took charge of the mules and led them away.

Captain Lingo took from his breeches pocket a small key and unlocked the door.

"Be so kind as to enter," he said, and made way for the captives and his men.

When all were within, including Ketch, who had now returned, the captain locked the door on the inside and restored the key to his pocket.



CHAPTER XVIII

THE SOCIETY FOR PIRATICAL RESEARCH

They were in a dark and narrow passage-way. As they stood huddled there together, a candle glimmered at the end of the passage, held in a tremulous hand, and lighting up the face of a very old woman. She advanced towards the party by the door, and holding her candle high above her head inspected the strangers with little blinking watery eyes. She was short and bent; she hobbled as she came forward; her face was seamed with deep wrinkles, and the hand which held the candle was knotted and gnarled; wisps of dirty grey hair hung over her eyes.

"Aha! Mother Ketch," said Captain Lingo. "I wager thou didst not expect us so soon. What's in the larder? We are famished."

Old Mother Ketch looked at her son, the Practitioner, and nodded her head at him once or twice, blinking her eyes. Then she fixed her eyes on Aunt Amanda, and seemed to forget everybody else.

"Well? well?" said Captain Lingo, impatiently. "Art going to keep us here all night? Come, woman! Speak up directly! What's for supper, eh?"

Mother Ketch slowly removed her eyes from Aunt Amanda, and looked at the captain steadily.

"There's nought but pigeons and mushrooms and—" said she.

"Good!" said the captain. "Then we will have pigeon pies; one for each; and well filled, mind you. Now haste; be off."

Mother Ketch turned and hobbled slowly down the passage, and the glimmer of her candle disappeared.

"Follow me," said Captain Lingo.

The six pirates vanished somewhere in the darkness, and the others followed Captain Lingo up a winding stair. At the top was a heavy door, which he unlocked with his key, and locked again on the inside after his guests had passed through. He then led them down a dark passage-way, and turning to the right unlocked a door with his key and threw it open.

They were in a large dining-room, on the table of which were numerous candles, which the captain lighted. In one wall was an opening for a dumb-waiter for sending up food from the kitchen below. The party seated themselves at the table, and after a considerable time Ketch entered, a napkin on his arm, and at the same time the dumb-waiter rose from the kitchen, and the meal commenced.

Ketch waited on the table. Besides pigeon pies there were mushrooms, a lettuce salad, hot biscuit, and excellent coffee. Ketch placed the first pigeon pie before the captain, and Aunt Amanda noticed that he examined the top of it carefully as he did so. She observed that he examined the top of each pie carefully before he placed it, until he had put one before herself, after which he put the others about without looking at them. She examined the top of her own pie herself, to see what Ketch could have been looking at. She saw in the center of it a tiny figure made of very brown dough, and as she looked closer it seemed to have the shape of a tiny key. She glanced at the other pies, and none of them bore any mark of this kind.

Everyone set to with a good will, and Aunt Amanda opened her pie. She remembered Ketch's caution, and she prodded it secretly with her fork before taking a bite. At the bottom her fork touched something hard. She immediately began to put the contents of her pie on her plate, and she did so in such a way as to leave the hard object beneath the rest. In the course of the meal, she dropped a portion of the pie to the floor, and stooped to pick it up. As she did so, she managed to take the hard object from her plate and conceal it in her lap. It was a key.

When the meal was over, the captain led his guests forth to their respective bedrooms, each carrying a lighted candle from the table. At the top of a stair was a closed door, which he unlocked with his key, and locked after the others had passed through. Along the passage which ran from this door were doors at intervals in the walls, and these he opened, one after another, showing one of his guests each time into a bedroom and leaving him there. On the stair, Aunt Amanda had whispered into Toby's ear the words, "Don't go to bed. Pass it along." And these words had been passed in a whisper from one to another of the captives.

Aunt Amanda, in her own room, now sat herself down to wait. She blew out her candle, and sat watching the shaft of moonlight which came through the slit that served for a window. She must have fallen asleep, for she came to herself with a start, and found the shaft of moonlight gone. She limped to the door, and found it locked. She took from her dress the pigeon-pie key and unlocked the door. The passage-way outside was silent and dark. She felt her way along the wall to the next door, and found it locked. She quietly unlocked it with her key. Toby was sitting within, waiting. He rose without a word, and followed her. They tiptoed from door to door, finding each one locked, and silently released each of the prisoners.

The key fitted every lock on their way down stairs. They reached the ground floor without an accident, and there in the passage which they had first seen they stopped to listen. They heard the click of a latch at the rear; a door there opened quietly on a crack and a light shone through; every heart stopped beating for a moment. The door opened wider, and a lighted candle appeared, and over it the wrinkled face of an old woman; she peered out into the passage, shading the candle with a trembling hand; the party of quaking runaways stood as still as mice, and held their breath; the old woman blinked for a moment into the darkness, and blew out her candle. All was dark again, and the latch of the door clicked.

The runaways lost no time. They crept silently but rapidly to the entrance door. Aunt Amanda unlocked and opened it, and they pressed out hurriedly. They were standing on the grass in a flood of moonlight.

Aunt Amanda, whose lameness had been almost forgotten in her excitement, now leaned on Toby, who was holding Freddie's hand, and who led the way to the rim of the forest where the trail lay. There was some difficulty in finding the trail, but they did find it at last, and they filed into the forest. They had not gone more than twenty yards when Toby, who was in advance, saw a great black object directly across their path. He went forward cautiously, in spite of his alarm, and breathed a sigh of joy when he saw what it was: it was a mule, saddled and bridled, and tied to a bush. Further on were other mules, all tethered; there were ten in all, of which eight were saddled and two were laden with packs.

"Blessings on that Ketch," whispered Aunt Amanda.

In a moment the entire party were mounted. In another moment they were going along the trail at a fast walk. The mules knew the way, and there was now no danger of going astray in the forest. Only, where were they to go, after all? If the pirates should catch them, everything would soon be over. If they should manage to elude the pirates, they would still be lost in the wilderness of this unknown Island. What was to become of them not one could tell. The future seemed very dark indeed.

Once or twice they paused, to listen for sounds of pursuit; but they heard nothing; not a sound disturbed the stillness; and the little moonlight which filtered here and there through the trees seemed to make the darkness more intense.

They had gone about half a mile, and were plodding along in drowsy silence, when suddenly, out of the tall bushes beside the trail, seven dark figures sprang upon them and seized the bridles of their mules.

"Ah!" cried Toby. "We are lost! The pirates!"

The mules stood stock still.

"It's no use," said Toby. "We can't escape. They are armed, and we are not. All right, Captain Lingo, don't strike; we surrender. We'll go back with you; don't strike."

"I beg your pardon," said a voice which none of them had ever heard before. "Are you pirates?"

"Ain't you pirates yourselves?" cried Aunt Amanda.

"What?" said the voice. "Is there a lady here? In that case, you are probably not pirates. Perhaps we have been too hasty. I beg your pardon."

"Who are you?" said Aunt Amanda.

"Do you admit that you are not pirates?" said the voice.

"Admit it!" said Aunt Amanda. "We vow and declare it! The very idea!"

"I am sorry to hear it," said the voice. "We are deeply disappointed. We of course cannot doubt the word of a lady, but we were almost sure we had found them. We have been searching for pirates for a long time, and we were advised that they lived somewhere near here. We must have missed our way. Could you perhaps direct us? It is a place called High Dudgeon."

"You bet we could," said Toby, "but we won't. We are running away from there, and you had better run too."

"Then perhaps you happen to know the whereabouts of a place called Low Dudgeon, where the pirates formerly lived?"

"We do," said Toby. "You are about half-way now between High Dudgeon and Low Dudgeon; and you had better get out of this neighborhood as fast as you can."

"This is very interesting," said the voice. "I feel that you will be able to give us some valuable information. If you have no objection, we will walk behind you until we come to a place where there is more light, when we will have a few minutes' conversation on this interesting subject."

The seven dark figures stood aside, and the mules moved onward. The seven figures walked behind.

In five minutes they reached a patch of ground where the moon shone brightly through the trees, and the riders drew in their animals, and turned to look at the figures who now marched sedately up beside them. These figures stood in a row facing the riders, and six of them turned their heads to the right, looking towards the first in the row, who was probably their leader.

They were seven tall men, dressed in black frock coats and striped trousers, with pearl-gray spats; but instead of high silk hats each wore a small black skull-cap, as more convenient, no doubt, for their rough life in the forest. It could be seen that they were no ordinary men; they looked like professors at college; their faces were thoughtful and even intellectual; each one wore spectacles; they squinted as if from too much poring over books by lamplight. The one at the head of the row was fat, with mutton-chop whiskers, and his frock coat was buttoned tight over a round stomach. He spoke in the same voice which they had heard in the dark.

"I beg your pardon," said he. "If you will be so kind as to direct us either to High Dudgeon or to Low Dudgeon, we will not fail to gratefully acknowledge—"

"Aha!" said one of the others, in a playful tone. "A split infinitive, Professor!"

"I beg your pardon. A slight inadvertence. To acknowledge gratefully your kind—"

"There's no time to talk now," said Toby. "We are running away from these bloodthirsty cut-throats, and if they catch us we are dead, as sure as you're born. I'll tell you what we will do. We'll all keep on to Low Dudgeon, and we'll go in there, if we can get in, and decide there what we had better do. It looked like a strong tower, and we would certainly be as safe inside there as out of doors, if the pirates should come along."

The Professor looked down the line of his companions. "What is the sense of the Committee on this proposal?" said he. "Ah. Very good. We are agreed. Proceed, my dear sir."

"One minute," said Aunt Amanda. "Excuse my asking, but I should like to know who you are, anyway."

The Professor waved a fat hand towards his companions, and looking at Aunt Amanda, said:

"We belong, madam, to the Society for Piratical Research, under the patronage of his gracious Majesty, the King of this Island. You behold before you a committee of that Society; the Committee on Doubtful and Fabulous Tales, sometimes called for the sake of brevity, from the initials of its title, the Daft Committee. As Third Vice-President of the Society for Piratical Research, I have the honour to be Chairman of the Daft Committee. The seat of our Society is far from here, in the principal city of this kingdom, the famous City of Towers, blest as the residence of his gracious Majesty, the most learned and liberal of princes. Our camp, which we made only late this evening, lies at no great distance from this spot. We did not wish to delay our researches until morning, and so, as Third Vice-President of the Society for Piratical Research, and Chairman of the Daft Committee, I—"

"Much obliged," said Toby. "We've no time to listen to any more. We must get on."

The Daft Committee, led by the Third Vice-President, fell in behind the mules, and the whole party moved forward, as rapidly as the mules and the committee could walk.

Aunt Amanda felt far from easy at the prospect of entering Low Dudgeon; but she had told Toby something of Ketch's strange words and manner regarding that place, and she was glad to leave the responsibility to him. Their dark and silent progress through the forest continued, and when they had gone what they thought must have been about half a mile, they knew they must be near their destination. Every eye was watchful and every ear was alert. A grunt from Toby in advance notified the others that they had arrived, and they filed out of the forest into the clearing, and saw before them the squat tower of Low Dudgeon in the moonlight.

The same light as before appeared from within, through the upper slits in the side of the tower. As they drew in their mules at the edge of the clearing, the Daft Committee came up, and the Third Vice-President spoke in a low voice.

"I presume," he said, "that this is Low Dudgeon. I have heard of it, but I have never seen it. It was formerly, some hundred years ago, the headquarters of the pirates. But something occurred here, I do not know what, which impelled the pirates to move. They accordingly built themselves a much better residence, known as High Dudgeon, where I understand they now live. I do not believe that Low Dudgeon has been occupied since. Gentlemen," he said, turning to his companions, "we are fortunate in having found this interesting place at last, after so much trouble. It is the very spot in which to begin our researches."

A murmur of approval arose from the other members of the committee.

"I don't know whether it's occupied or not," said Aunt Amanda. "Ketch told me that no one lives there, and that there's thirteen of 'em; and he seemed to be afraid of the place. And there's a light up there. I don't understand it."

"Gentlemen," said the Third Vice-President, "is it the sense of the committee that we begin our researches in Low Dudgeon?"

Every member of the Daft Committee murmured his assent.

"If we go into the forest," said Toby, "we may be caught; if we go in here, we are safe for a while, anyway, and we can decide there what we had better do; maybe these gentlemen can send for help. Anyway, let's get in if we can."

The riders dismounted from their mules and tied them to trees; in another moment the whole party were standing before the door of the tower.

"Better knock," said Toby.

They knocked, and knocked again; there was no answer.

"Aunt Amanda," said Toby, "try your key."

Aunt Amanda tried the key, and it fitted; she turned it, and the lock snapped back. Toby thrust open the door.

The company entered, and Toby took the key and locked the door behind them. They were in a dark passage, near the foot of a winding stair. "We had better go up where the light is," said Toby, in a whisper.

They went cautiously and noiselessly up the stair to the landing. There they found themselves in a hall, and at a little distance down the hall they saw a dim light shining under a closed door. "There it is," said Toby. "Come on."

With the same breathless caution they tiptoed to the door. It had no lock, and Toby turned the knob and slowly pushed it open.

"Ah!" said Toby, in a frightened gasp, and started back.

The others crowded at his back and pushed him forward. The Third Vice-President of the Society for Piratical Research brushed past him into the room, and the other six members followed him. The party of fugitives moved slowly in after them.

In the middle of the room was a large round table. In the center of this table stood some twenty wax tapers in silver candlesticks, burning brightly; and seated around the table were thirteen men.

Not one of these men moved as the party came into the room. Not a limb nor muscle stirred. The Third Vice-President coughed aloud. Still none of the men moved so much as a finger. The whole party came forward to the table and stood close behind the thirteen men and examined them. They were dead.

They were sitting in all positions. Food was before them, as if they were in the midst of a meal. Some were leaning across the table as if in conversation. Some were in the act of cutting meat on their plates, some in the act of putting forks to their mouths. Every face was ghastly white, and every eye was fixed in a vacant stare.

"See!" said Toby, in a whisper, pointing to their backs.

From the back of each was sticking the handle of a knife, the blade of which was buried in the flesh to the hilt.

Aunt Amanda sank on Toby's shoulder for a moment, but she soon recovered. Freddie grasped Toby's hand.

"Look," said Toby. "They must be pirates."

Each head was bound with a bright-colored kerchief, and as the horrified company examined the dead men closer, it was seen that they all wore knee breeches. A long dagger was sticking upright in the table, just under the candles. Pinned by this dagger to the table was a large sheet of white paper, and there was evidently writing on it.

The Third Vice-President had apparently little fear of thirteen dead men; he went directly to the table, and reaching across between two of the stiff figures drew the dagger from the table and took from the dagger's point the sheet of paper. He adjusted his spectacles, turned his back to the candles so as to obtain a good light on the paper, and read from it aloud:

"Thus does Captain Lingo serve All Traitors."

For a moment there was silence. Then Aunt Amanda spoke sharply.

"The wicked villain!" said she. "Thirteen of his men dead at once, by his own hand! No wonder the six that are left are afraid of him! No wonder they don't like this place! Oh the wicked scoundrel! If I had him here, I declare I would—"

She paused suddenly and listened. There was a stealthy creaking on the stairs. It grew more distinct; then it stopped, and there was silence.

The thirteen in their chairs made no motion whatever; but the living turned with one accord towards the open doorway of the room. They waited with bated breath. In another moment Captain Lingo himself was standing in the doorway, a pistol in his right hand and a knife in his left. Without a word he advanced into the room, and behind him came his six men, shrinking obviously away from the sight of their thirteen murdered friends.

As Captain Lingo came to a stand before his recent prisoners, his eyes blazed, and with his right thumb he cocked his pistol. Each of his men held a pistol in his right hand and a cutlass in his left, and each cocked his pistol with his thumb.

The Third Vice-President of the Society for Piratical Research, who seemed in no wise disconcerted, stepped forward and addressed the pirate.

"Captain Lingo, I presume?"

"Ay, ay; be quick. I must finish this business quickly."

"My committee and myself have been long anxious, sir, in the interest of science, to make your acquaintance. I rejoice at this opportunity."

"Oh, indeed," said Captain Lingo, drily.

"Yes, sir; I assure you I am delighted. I believe I have the pleasure of speaking to a subject of King James the Second."

"Ay, ay," said Lingo, eyeing him suspiciously. "What then?"

"Then the records of our Society are vindicated. They go back, my dear sir, some two hundred years; and they contain, from various sources, an unbroken account of Captain Lingo and his exploits from the time of James the Second to the present. But the sources of our information were not always reliable; some doubts were thrown upon our records by jealous persons outside the Society; and as it is the special business of the Committee on Doubtful and Fabulous Tales to look into such matters, the Committee is here before you at the present moment in the interest of truth. No member of our Society has ever seen Captain Lingo, and the jealous persons I have mentioned pretend that no such person has ever existed. The chief mission of our Committee is to vindicate our records by a sight of Captain Lingo himself. Thanks to you, sir, that has now been done. Our next mission is to determine for our Society this most important question: are you alive or dead?"

At this, the captain's brows came together in a terrible frown; the scar across his cheek and chin turned very white; and he glared under his eyebrows dangerously at the complacent Third Vice-President. His lips parted, showing his white teeth clenched tight together. He started to speak through his clenched teeth, and leveled his pistol straight at the Third Vice-President's breast; but at that moment a cry from the Churchwarden startled everybody.

"Bless my soul! Why didn't I never once think of this before? These men ain't real persons at all! How could they be, after two hundred years? They're no better than wicked spirits! That's what they are, wicked spirits! Why didn't we think of that before? Aha! my fine friends, I've got a little medicine here for you! Ha! ha!"

He drew forth from his back pocket a little perfume bottle, and waved it over his head.

"Hurrah!" he cried. "Hurrah for the Odour of Sanctity!" And with these words the Churchwarden uncorked the bottle and sprinkled a few drops of his perfume on the floor, directly at the feet of Captain Lingo.

A sharp odour instantly filled the air; so sharp that it brought tears to the eyes of everyone. Captain Lingo and his men stepped quickly backward, but it was too late. A look of pained surprise crept over their faces, and remained fixed there. Their feet stood rooted to the floor, and the hands which held the cutlasses and pistols stiffened and became rigid. Not one of them could move an eye-lash. Their outlines began to waver; their faces began to be dim and vague, as if covered with close white veils; from their outsides inward they slowly faded, melted, dissolved; nothing remained of any of them but a wraith, a vapor, a puff of smoke, remotely in the shape of a human being; and then that also vanished; nothing remained; the place where they had been was empty.

All eyes turned to the table where the thirteen murdered pirates had been sitting. They were gone. Their chairs were vacant.

The Churchwarden calmly put the stopper in his bottle and restored it to his pocket.

"Humph!" said he. "Nothing like Odour of Sanctity. Never knew it to fail. No harm to human persons, but no wicked spirit as ever lived can stand against it; and a blessed good thing the bottle didn't break as we came down the water-fall. No perfumery in this world like Odour of Sanctity!"



CHAPTER XIX

A KNOCK AT THE DOOR

The Third Vice-President and his fellow-members of the Daft Committee seated themselves in the chairs just vacated by the thirteen murdered pirates. Nothing could have persuaded any of the others to sit in those dreadful seats; but no feeling of this sort appeared to disturb the Committee, and they evidently saw no reason why they should not be comfortable.

The Third Vice-President drummed on the table with his fingers, and frowned to himself in silence. One of the Committee, taking his skull-cap from his head and smoothing it thoughtfully with his hand, glanced up at the Chairman and said:

"I fear, Professor, that our hopes are dashed. It is nothing less than disastrous."

"You are right, my dear sir," said the Chairman. "It is a terrible misfortune; terrible indeed. And just when we were on the point of—"

"What!" exclaimed Toby in astonishment. "Do you mean to say you are sorry those rascally pirates are gone?"

"My dear sir," said the Chairman, very patiently, "I am finding no fault. I do not wish to blame anyone. The loss of these pirates to science is one that can never be compensated. The Society for Piratical Research is now at an end. There are no other pirates on this island, and you must see for yourselves that without pirates our society must perish. It is a woful—"

"Well, I never!" said Aunt Amanda. "Of all things! Do you dare to sit there and tell me you'd rather see us all murdered by pirates than—"

"Be calm, my friends," said the Third Vice-President, placidly. "I have already said that I do not wish to find fault. I desire to be generous. It is my wish. In fact, I forgive you freely. Whatever bitterness you may have caused us, we are willing to believe that it was not intentional. The Daft Committee forgives you; freely. Let us be peaceful. It only remains to decide what steps we shall take to meet the future. I submit to you this question: whether we shall first go to the pirates' home in High Dudgeon, or return at once to the City of Towers, to confess our failure and receive our—Hark! I thought I heard a knock."

Everyone listened. There was indeed the sound of knocking, muffled but quite audible. The group standing about the table looked from one to another in silence. Was this some new danger? Were there other pirates to be reckoned with? The Churchwarden put his hand to his back pocket, to be ready with his bottle.

"I think it comes from within this room," said the Third Vice-President.

All eyes examined the room. The walls were unbroken, except by window-slits on one side, the open doorway on another, and on a third a closed door, which no one had before observed. Toby walked over to this closed door, and placed his ear against it. A muffled knock sounded from within.

Toby nodded his head to the others, and tried the door. It was locked. "Lend me your key, Aunt Amanda," said he; and when she had given it to him he inserted it in the lock and turned it and threw wide the door. Inside was a dark closet hung with cloaks. On the floor sat a man.

Toby stepped back in amazement. The man sat motionless, his legs crossed, gazing out into the lighted room. After a second or two he rose, and stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. He said not a word, but continued to rub his eyes until they evidently became used to the light, and gave two or three sniffs, as if he smelt an odour, and found it far from agreeable.

He was a thickset man, dressed in sailor's clothes, in no way like the clothes the pirates had worn. His eyes were small and very close together; his nose was broken and flat; his lower jaw stuck out beyond his upper; an unpleasant fellow enough, if looks were anything. In his belt he carried a long knife. His sailor collar was cut low in front, and his chest was tattooed in red and blue ink.

As he hesitated in the doorway, sniffing the air uneasily and blinking his eyes, the Chairman of the Daft Committee spoke in his calm voice.

"Come in, my good sir," said he. "I should like to take the liberty of asking you a few questions."

The sailorman walked slowly into the room and looked about him.

"What's that there smell in the air?" said he.

"Nothing only my Odour of Sanctity," said the Churchwarden.

"I don't like it," said the sailorman.

"I can't say that I like it much myself," said the Third Vice-President, "but it is too faint now to be disagreeable. Pray be seated, sir." One of the Committee rose and offered the sailorman his chair. The sailor sat down and gazed at the Third Vice-President, who went on with his speech. "You need have no fear, sir; if Captain Lingo causes you any uneasiness, I may tell you that he is gone, never to return; and all his men with him; even the thirteen dead men who were sitting in these chairs until a few minutes ago."

"What!" said the sailor. "Has them thirteen men been a-sitting here all these years?"

"My dear sir," said the Third Vice-President, "I assure you we saw them with our own eyes. But you will perhaps be kind enough to tell us who you are, and how you came to be locked up in that closet."

"Humph!" said the sailor, hesitating. "I don't know who you are, nor what you're doing in this here place. However, if Lingo's gone, and—Oh well, I might as well tell you. By the looks of you, I ain't got much cause to be afraid."

"Your courtesy under the circumstances will be much appreciated," said the Third Vice-President.

"Courtesy be blowed," said the sailorman. "Well, here goes. I'm Matthew Speak, able-bodied seaman, of the brig Cotton Mather, out of New Bedford, Reuben Higginson, master."

"What!" cried Aunt Amanda, almost shrieking. "Are you—? The Cotton Mather! Reuben Higginson! Did you know him? It ain't possible! I can't believe it!"

"It ain't nothing to me whether you believes it or not. I shipped with Reuben Higginson at New Bedford and landed here with him and his crew on this same identical Island, all tight and safe; here on Correction Island, as the cap'n called it."

"What!" cried Aunt Amanda again. "Is this Correction Island? Well, I never! Here we are on Correction Island after all, and we never knew it! Are you sure?"

"That's what he called it, believe me or not. It ain't nothing to me, but I seen it on the map I sold to Mizzen, and the cap'n wrote it there in his own handwrite; that's all I know; but maybe if you'd hunt up this here Lemuel Mizzen, a sailor with a patch on one eye and—"

"Well, of all things!" exclaimed Aunt Amanda.

"By crackey," said Toby, "I wouldn't 'a' believed it. Lemuel Mizzen!"

"Perhaps you will be so good as to tell us—" began the Third Vice-President.

"Freddie," said Aunt Amanda, "have you got the map?"

"Yes'm," said Freddie, and produced it from his pocket.

Aunt Amanda took it from him and spread it open on the table before Matthew Speak. The sailorman glanced at it and nodded his head.

"That's it," said he. "I don't know how you come by it, but that's it. Higginson was lost with the Cotton Mather in a storm on his way back to New Bedford, and a lucky chance for me I wasn't aboard. A good while afterwards a fisherman off of this here Island picked up the map at sea in a bottle, and I got it off'n him; he squealed a good bit when I stuck him, but I got it, right enough. And then along comes Mizzen, me being in hiding, and I sold it to him for a set of false whiskers and a tattoo-needle."

"Yes, yes," said Freddie eagerly. "Mr. Mizzen told me about it."

"When Higginson sailed away from here in the Cotton Mather, I didn't go with him. I ran away. Ay, a runaway sailor, that's what I am. I liked the Spanish Main, and I didn't like Higginson; nor yet he didn't like me, neither. But before he sailed, I left my mark on him, I did; four of his teeth out and a black eye; and I won't say but what he broke my nose for me too, right enough. For a Quaker, he hit pretty good. And I stole this bit of writing from him; probably it ain't no account, but Higginson he seemed to set great store by it, so I stole it, and here it is." He took from his pocket a sheet of folded paper and laid it on the table beside the map; it was much soiled, and was evidently very old. He sniffed the air once or twice, and frowned. "I don't like this here smell. It's no good. I say I don't like it. It makes me feel queer. Well, I guess the old man thought this here bit of writing was safe in his locker right up to the last; I expect he never missed it until he went to put it into the bottle with the map and throw it overboard." He shook the paper in his hand and dropped it again on the table. "And then," he went on, "I fell in with Lingo, and joined his crew."

"Look here," said Toby, "how long ago was all this?"

"How do I know?" said Speak. "I've been shut up in that there cupboard so long I ain't got no account of time. But I remember just before we sailed from New Bedford there was a lot of crazy people talkin' about getting up a fight with England and breakin' loose from her, and being free and independent and what not—a great pack of foolish nonsense—and something or other about some kind of a tea-party in Boston—I dunno. I ain't never heard what come of it. Most likely nothin' at all. I guess it must have been a good while ago. I dunno."

The Churchwarden started, and put his hand to his back pocket. "Are you as old as that?" said he.

"No older nor what you be, old fat-chaps," said Speak. "You attend to your own age, and I'll attend to mine."

"Never mind," said the Third Vice-President, hastily. "Pray tell us how you came to be locked up in that closet."

"Gimme a chanc't," said Speak. "I'd tell you if you'd gimme a chanc't. I joined Lingo. I served him true and faithful, and many a prize we've taken together, and watched many a smart lad walk the plank, that's a fact. Well, thirteen of his men laid a plan to go to his treasure-cave where all his treasure was hid, and make off with it; steal it; ay, ay; steal it, mind you; as bad as that. Now me, I ain't got no patience with dishonesty; I'm all for being honest, I am; so, being as I had learned about this here plan, I went and told the captain. He never winked an eye, not him, but off he sent his other six men, out of the way, and made a fine supper here for them thirteen and sat down with them to it; ay, that he did. But first he gets a little white powder out of a silver box and takes it to Mother Ketch and orders her to put it in their food; and she won't, not she, and nothing he can do can make her; so he comes to me, and being as I hates dishonesty, I puts the powder in their food, and they eats it. Only, being kind of nervous, as you might say, I spills about two-thirds of it on my way upstairs in the dark; and there ain't enough left to do the work complete. What was left I put in the food on the table, and at that minute up the stairs comes the whole thirteen with the captain at their head, and I whips into that there cupboard and shuts the door, a-trembling in my boots for fear of what the captain's going to do to me when he finds out the powder won't work only partly. I can hear 'em all set down to the table laughin' hearty, and the captain's voice a-crackin' jokes and makin' 'em feel at home; but after a bit I don't hear nobody's voice but only the captain's, because of the white powder actin' on the others as far as it could, and them probably a-settin' up stiff and tongue-tied in their chairs, unable to move a hand, because of the mite of powder, d'ye see, and me a-settin' quiet in the dark cupboard, a-quakin' all over and wonderin' what the captain was a-goin' to do to me. And after a bit I don't hear the captain's voice no more, and there ain't no sound at all. And I guess the party is over. And in another minute I hears a key turn in the lock of my cupboard door, very soft and easy, and there I am shut up and locked in as tight as pitch; and there I've been ever since."

"And serve you jolly well right, too, hif you arsk me," said Mr. Punch, with great disgust.

"It's the wickedest piece of business all round I ever heard of in my life," said Aunt Amanda, indignantly. "It's my opinion you're as bad as any of them."

"Worse, if anything," said the Churchwarden, whose hand was still on his back pocket.

"It's a pity the captain didn't knife you in the back with the rest of 'em," said Toby, angrily.

Speak's little eyes flashed fire. He drew his knife and held it out threateningly in his hand, and started to rise. But he did not rise. He remained fixed in his chair, though it was easy to see that he was trying to get up. He sniffed the air, and his head remained fixed in the act of sniffing. The hand which held the knife continued to hold it out, without moving. A look of alarm came into his eyes. It was evident that he had smelled the Odour of Sanctity, which yet lingered faintly in the room. His outline began to waver; his face became vague; his features ran together; he took on the appearance of vapor; and there in the chair by the table, in place of the thick and solid sailorman, was an almost transparent form of mist or smoke, remotely in the shape of a man.

Everyone waited to see him vanish. The form still lingered; it did not disappear; it continued to sit in its chair with its hand extended, holding out a shadowy knife. The Odour of Sanctity had lost its full power, and what remained of it was insufficient to make him disappear.

The Churchwarden pulled out his bottle, and commenced to uncork it.

"Stay," said the Third Vice-President, holding up his hand. "I pray you stay. Do not spill any more of that deadly fluid. There has been enough destruction here tonight. I propose that we leave the late Matthew Speak as he is. He belongs to the Society for Piratical Research. He is the Last of the Pirates, and I beg leave to claim him for the Society. As an exhibit, he will be highly valued. We shall from time to time conduct hither parties of the learned or the curious to view the Last of the Pirates. Nothing could be better. Our Society is now revived. I am immensely gratified. Low Dudgeon shall be known as the only Museum in the world with but a single Exhibit. Let the late Matthew Speak repose here in his chair as a permanent relic of a bygone age; the sole Exhibit in a Museum all his own. The interest of such an Exhibit will doubtless warrant a small charge at the door."

The Committee murmured an earnest approval. The Churchwarden looked at his companions, and put the bottle back into his pocket with a sigh.

"I thank you," said the Third Vice-President. "We will now proceed to consider our next step."

"I simply can't stay in this room," exclaimed Aunt Amanda, "with that thing sitting in that chair."

"It is nothing, madam, I assure you," said the Third Vice-President. "See!"

He leaned over and passed his hand directly through the body in the chair; in at the breast and out at the back.

"Oh!" cried Aunt Amanda; and her friends all gasped; but the Committee only nodded their heads in token of their interest.

"You see it is nothing," said the Third Vice-President. "We will now look at the paper which our departed friend has left."

He picked up the paper from the table where Speak had left it, adjusted his spectacles, turned his back to the candles so as to get a good light, and read the paper through to himself. He then glanced at the company and read aloud:

"Shiraz the Rug-Merchant.

"Outside the Gate of Wanderers, six hundred Paces to the Right, along the Wall.

"Thee shall know his Shop by certain Numbers, to wit: 3101310.

"If he Hide himself, say these words: Shagli Jamshid Shahriman.

"Thee shall buy of his Wares; not that which he shall offer First, nor Second; but that which he shall offer Third, that thee shall Buy; and for that thee shall Pay whatever he shall Demand.

"Thereafter thee shall do whatever he shall Direct.

"But enter not into the City but by the Shop of Shiraz the Rug-Merchant."

There was silence for a moment, then Aunt Amanda said:

"That's the way we are to get those wonderful things the map speaks of. It doesn't seem to tell us much, though. Where do you suppose is this Gate of Wanderers?"

"That, dear madam," said the Third Vice-President, "is one of the gates of our City of Towers. We know it very well, of course."

"Then," said Aunt Amanda, "as captain of my party, my orders is that we go there at once."

"Much good would that do," said Toby. "We've got to buy something of this here Shiraz, if that's his name, and pay anything he asks, too. And there ain't a penny amongst us. How could we buy anything?"

"The pirates' treasure!" cried Freddie. "The pirates' treasure in the cave!"

"By crackey!" said Toby. "I clean forgot all about it. Good for you, Freddie! Talk about money to buy things with! We'll buy out that old Shiraz's whole shop! The treasure belongs to us, as sure as you're born. By crickets, we're in luck."

"If you will pardon me," said the Third Vice-President, "we know nothing of any treasure, and if you would be so good as to——"

"I will," said Aunt Amanda, and she quickly explained the whole matter. The Daft Committee, including its Chairman, was much impressed.

"We do not wish to intrude," said the Chairman, "but if we could be of any service——"

"Of course!" cried Toby. "You've got to help us get the treasure out of the cave, and then help us to find the City of Towers. And if you'll help us, why what I say is, the Committee ought to have a share of the treasure. Is that right?"

Toby's friends willingly agreed, and the Committee gladly consented to go with them to the Treasure Cave and then to the City of Towers.

"The Society for Piratical Research," said the Third Vice-President, "is coming back to life! We now have a Museum with one Exhibit, and we are about to acquire a Fund of Money. Come, my friends, it is time to depart. If you will go out first, I will remain and blow out the candles. We must remember to close the door behind us, for a draught of air would probably blow the late Mr. Matthew Speak out of the window."

In a few moments the whole party was standing in the moonlight on the grass before the deserted tower of Low Dudgeon. Not quite deserted, however; in every mind was a picture of a misty and vapory form, remotely in the shape of a man, sitting motionless in a chair beside a table in a dark and silent room.

"All right," said Toby, "now for the Treasure Cave and the City of Towers."



CHAPTER XX

THE CITY OF TOWERS

At the Pirates' Cave, the task of getting out the treasure proved very difficult, but it was done at last.

The Committee's camp in the forest had supplied abundance of provisions, and a great number of animals; the Committee traveled in luxury.

On the level ground where Mr. Hanlon had given his exhibition of head-work, the toilers were now resting in the hot sun, and drying their garments, thoroughly soaked by their trips in and out of the cave, under the water-fall. They looked with intense delight on the boxes and bags which lay before them.

"What I say is," said Toby, "let's divide the treasure now, so we won't have to bother about it when we get to the City of Towers."

"How beautiful is nature!" said the Sly Old Codger. "Behold that wide expanse of field and forest resting so—so—expansively beneath the orb of day! A true, true work of nature! At such a moment as this, dear friends, a warm feeling invades my heart, a feeling of—of—Did I hear a suggestion to divide the treasure?"

The division was carefully made, and when it was done, and each person had declared himself well satisfied, each share was packed separately, and the treasure loaded on the backs of the extra mules. It was a princely fortune.

"Do you suppose," said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg, "that—er—I shall be able to obtain, in the City of Towers, such a thing as a pipeful—ahem!—a pipeful of tobacco?"

"Never fear," said the Third Vice-President. "I fancy you will be able to buy there all the tobacco you can use."

"Wery sorry I am to 'ear it," said Mr. Punch. "Hi regard the tobacco 'abit as a wery reprehensible 'abit. Wery."

"Oh, you do!" said Toby, glaring at him.

"Wery reprehensible indeed," went on Mr. Punch, calmly. "My conscience 'as troubled me for a long time by reason of my position in the tobacco trade. Being posted, as one may s'y, in a wery hadwantageous position for hobserwation, I 'ave seen too much, entirely too much, of the sad effects of the hobnoxious weed. Many a time 'ave I wept to myself, when the hobserver may 'ave thought it was only rain on me cheek, to see 'em, young and hold, going in and hout of Toby Littleback's shop, knowing what would come of it sooner or later, and me a-standing there hencouraging of 'em in, as one may s'y, with me packet of cigars in me 'and. Hoften enough 'ave I wished to give it hup and embark in a hoccupation less reprehensible; many a time 'ave I said to myself, 'Ho, hif I could only be hinnocent once, just once.' And now Hi shall put be'ind me hall the d'ys of me sinful past, and with my share of the treasure Hi shall open a shop for the purveying of tripe."

"There's a deal more harm been done by tripe than ever there was by tobacco," said Toby.

"There is a total absence of nicotine in tripe," said Mr. Punch, loftily. "At least, such is my hinformation. And I carn't 'elp 'oping that my friend Littleback will reform hisself, now that 'e can afford it, and engage in some pursuit less 'armful to the young. Hif I was arsked, I would suggest pinking and pleating."

"You ain't been asked," said Toby. "I can see myself pinking and pleating. When I want advice what to do with my money, I'll ask you. Tobacco is my line, and tobacco is going to be my line to the end of the chapter, and that's flat. Pinking and pleating! Humph."

"It's my belief," said the Churchwarden, "after listening to what's been said, pro and con, backwards and forwards, up and down, that if we don't start for the City of Towers, we'll never get there."

"And what's more," said Toby, "when I get back I'm going to have an Indian outside my door, instead of a tripe-seller."

"Excuse me," said the Third Vice-President. "I am sorry to interrupt this interesting discussion, but we really ought to be going. Gentlemen," to the Committee, "our steeds are waiting. To the City of Towers!"

The journey which now commenced proved to be a very long one. Day after day the pilgrims plodded through a wilderness of forest and field, over streams, across mountains, down into deep valleys and up again, camping at night wherever they happened to find water and wood, and sleeping under the stars in blankets on beds of boughs. The moon was gone before their journey was over.

One morning the trail brought them down on a mountain-side to a well-paved road. This road they followed for some hours, and it brought them finally to the top of a gentle hill, covered with trees. From the top of this hill they saw a striking scene.

Stretching away from the foot of the hill lay a great rolling valley, up which the road ran as straight as a ribbon. Far away, at the end of the road, against a dark wooded mountain, stood a great city, walled around with a high wall, and shining in the sun with white and gold domes and turrets and towers. The rear of the city rose along the lower slope of the mountain, and on the top of the mountain, concealing its peak, lay a cloud; black below, and glittering with sunlight at the edges. It hung there motionless during the time when the watchers sat watching the scene. Directly under the cloud, on the slope where the farthest portion of the city lay, was an open space among the buildings, like a great garden or park, and in the midst of it a vast white building with a flat roof, great enough for the palace of a king. That which struck the strangers most, at their first look, was the great number of towers which rose at all points in the city; surely so many towers had never been gotten together in one place before; and the most remarkable one of them was the tower which rose from just behind the great white building in the park. It was dull in colour, and doubtless of brick; it was round in shape, tapering gradually upwards. It rose to a height which none of the strangers would have thought possible, had they not seen it with their own eyes; it rose straight to the cloud which hung motionless upon the mountain; it pierced the cloud, and its top was lost to view in the cloud or above it.

"The City of Towers!" said the Third Vice-President, waving his arm in that direction. "The Gate of Wanderers is before us, at the end of the road."

The party urged their animals forward down the hill-side, and pressed on until noon, when they halted for rest and refreshment in a wood beside the road. There they sat at their ease on the grass, and the Third Vice-President looked from one to another, and spoke as follows:

"My friends, I must tell you the story of the Towers. Our King, you must know, is a handsome and amiable man, in appearance about thirty years of age. When I tell you that he has been our king for more than forty years, you will be surprised. His wife was a princess of some few years less than his own, and of a beauty unequalled in the kingdom. Her wedding ring, the gift of her husband, was a single ruby in a plain gold band, and this ring she was never known to remove from her wedding-finger for a single moment. She was blessed with three beautiful children, two boys and a girl, the oldest of whom was nearly nine years of age.

"When the prince, our present King, was thirty years old, his father the King, who was then alive, gave a great ball at the palace, and at this ball the old King declared to the assembled court that he desired to build a tower; a mighty tower, higher than any other in the world, where he might seek repose from time to time; a tower so tall that it would reach the cloud that hangs perpetually on the mountain. To him who should build such a tower in the shortest time the King would give any reward which the fortunate bidder might ask. The old King laughed as he made his offer, and it was plain that he was only half serious; but many of the richest of his nobility desired the prize, and contended for it earnestly. One proposed to erect the tower in ten years, another in eight, and one was found who was willing to promise it in six years and a half; but these terms were all too long. The King was old, and he would not wait so long.

"'Is there no one,' said the old King at last, 'who will build me my tower in less than six years and a half?'

"'I will build it in one night,' said a voice from the rear of the ball-room.

"An old man came forward and stood before the King; an old man, dressed in a short gown tied in with a cord about the middle, with sandals on his feet, a lantern with a lighted candle in one hand, and a staff in the other. No one in that place had ever seen him before, and no one knew how he had gotten in amongst that glittering company.

"'I will build your tower in one night,' said the old man.

"The old King laughed outright, but he accepted the offer then and there. 'In the morning,' said he, 'if we find the tower finished, you shall have any gift which may be in my power to give.'

"The old man bowed, and made his way slowly out of the palace. A great shout of laughter went up from the company, and in this the King himself joined heartily; but the joke was, as I must tell you, my friends, that in the morning when the King rose, there stood the tower in fact, behind the palace, so tall that its top could not be seen in the cloud that hung upon the mountain; and there, my friends, the tower stands to this day.

"That evening the old man returned for his reward. He stood before the King, and on the King's right and left stood the prince and the prince's wife and children. The King asked the old man what reward he desired.

"'I ask nothing,' replied the other, with a sly smile, 'except the ruby ring upon the finger of the Princess.'

"The Princess turned pale, and hid her hand behind her. She would not give up her wedding-ring; nothing the King could say could move her. He offered the old man anything else he might demand; a dozen ruby rings; a box of ruby rings; anything; but the old man would have nothing but the ring upon the Princess's finger. The Princess grew paler still, as if with fear; but she would not give up the ring. The old man smiled his sly smile again, and went away.