All the Crew started to their feet as they saw this ghastly apparition, all gory and horrible.
“Never!” said a voice.
“Dead!” said Death-wing, dropping a goblet of wine from his hand.
“Dead! Yes; for ever dead!” said the apparition, as it stalked through the apartment. “Dead! for ever dead!” it said, and vanished.
Death-wing and his followers had scarcely seated themselves once more when they were again startled out of their propriety by the entrance of a tall stranger, robed in a black cloak from head to foot.
“Who and what art thou?” said Death-wing, with drawn sword.
“The Red Man of the Gibbet!” said the stranger, dropping the disguise from off his shoulders.
Every one rose.
“What wouldst thou with us, worthy chief?” said Death-wing. “You never come without bad tidings. What would you have us do?”
“Prepare for death!” was the solemn answer; “your hour has come! This is the last time I can ever quit my iron cage and prison house. No more can I walk abroad at certain times, to aid, to guide, and protect you; the spell is broken. Phillip Redgill has ceased to live, and all is over. Farewell, farewell! Ned Warbeck triumphs.”