“And I,” said a third, “saw crowds of people following the carts.”
“It was a tremendous gathering, I hear,” said Death-wing; “such a sight as London never saw before.”
“I passed under several of the gibbets to-night,” said one of the scouts, “and the night-birds and vultures were very busy with the bodies already. Colonel Blood kept his word with them.”
“Serve them right,” said Death-wing; “they were always cunning, tricky knaves, every one of them, and our enemies. Has any one heard of Phillip Redgill?” said Death-wing.
“Yes,” one replied; “he is still in the madhouse.”
“I know that; but is he better?”
“I did not hear.”
“Perhaps he will recover, and, when I am gone,” said Death-wing, “he will lead the Crew as I have done.”
“Never,” said a sepulchral voice near him.
It was the ghost of Phillip Redgill!