For a few moments no sound was heard but the low murmuring of the small waves as they rolled upon the beach, and his own heavy breathing, for he had violently resisted the ruffians in their attempt to bind him; but the assault had been too sudden and unexpected for his efforts to be of any avail.
He now attempted to unbind his arms, but all his attempts were perfectly futile.
‘I hope you’re having a good time of it, casting off them stoppers. Nothing’ll open them lashings but a sharp knife, and if you get one at all it will be through your blasted ribs, if I had my way about it.’
‘Who are you, sir; and what means this rascally violence?’
‘Take it coolly, my young game-cock, and bless your stars you haven’t a brace of bullets through your bloody heart,’ said another voice, which he recognized as that of the person who had questioned him about the goat.
Monteagle revolved in his mind all the occurrences which had transpired in the last few days, in order to account for this strange outrage. At first he thought robbery might be their object; but this idea was put to flight when he remembered that while he lay senseless no attempts had been made to deprive him of the little gold he had about him.
Another person now joined the party, and he heard the three in low and apparently earnest consultation. Soon they ceased talking, and approached him.—Two of them raised him to his feet, and one of them said in a rough, brutal tone, ‘Now, stir your stumps, and walk where we lead you.’
‘But how if I refuse to walk?’ said Monteagle.
‘Then we’ll take you by the neck and drag you over the beach, if the sharp stones scrape the flesh from your cursed bones.’
‘Release me; or my cries shall bring assistance,’ said Monteagle, resolutely.