However, the Phantom Ship, one of those which the Skeleton Crew possessed, had quickly succumbed to Ned Warbeck’s prowess, and the crew, at least for the present, scattered to the four winds of heaven.
Ned Warbeck and his faithful Tim would have continued to cruise with the brave Lieutenant Garnet, but Ned was ordered to London to report in person to the king and to the board of merchants regarding Death-wing’s band.
As he heard also of Phillip Redgill’s villainy and of his brother Charley’s disgrace and misfortune, this spurred him on all the more to reach London quickly, so that he might inquire into the whole affair himself.
He swore to be revenged on Phillip, and was burning with impatience to reach his journey’s end, that he might disclose to Sir Richard Warbeck all he had learned from Bob Bertram about the old farmer’s murder.
Through sunshine and shower, therefore, Ned and Tim journeyed from Walton Abbey, on two capital steeds which the grateful marquis and the young lord had placed at their disposal.
Through the rain, sleet, and snow they journeyed, as fast as horseflesh would carry them, and among other eccentricities, in order to surprise and astonish the simple country folk, and in awful dread of again being recognised by any stray member of the Skeleton Crew or Sea Hawk’s smugglers, Master Tim blacked his face, and wore semi-theatrical attire, much to Ned Warbeck’s amusement.
It had just struck eleven by the parish clock when the inmates of an inn in a small town in the south of England were disturbed by a sudden clattering of hoofs on the pavement, and presently after by a loud knocking at the door.
“Who in the world can that be?” cried the sexton, aroused from a comfortable nap, “the devil a bit would I open the door at this time of night; for it must be the Old One himself, or Death-wing, chief of the Skeleton Crew, to weather such a storm. Why, the rain falls fast enough to drown a horse, and the wind would blow a millstone to London. I say,” addressing himself to the landlord, “don’t you open that door upon no account! We might——”
Here he was interrupted by another forcible appeal to the knocker, which made the glasses and cans rattle on the table.