"And now the red fighting will begin all over again," cried Moira. "My soul, will there not have been deaths enough for this treasure? Every piece of it must be specked with men's blood."
"We better tell Murray," said Peter, moving toward the lip of the rock platform.
"But how could Flint be back so soon?" I protested. "'Tis impossible, Peter. He could not——"
"He could, ja," returned the Dutchman imperturbably. "Der storm was by in two glasses—andt der ship is yet maybe ten leagues off, neen?"
We descended the Spyglass in silence. Twilight overtook us in the forest at its base, and we were obliged to retrace our course with extreme caution, so that eight bells rang from the Royal James—so exact was the restored discipline on that stranded hulk—as we stepped from the trees on to the shore of the North Inlet and hailed for a boat.
My great-uncle met us at the gangway, immaculate in plum satin coat and blue plush breeches, white silk stockings and black pumps, silver-buckled, his hair neatly tied with a black silk ribbon.
"Well, well," he greeted us, "you have made a long day of it. I trust you are not overtired, sweet?"
This to Moira.
"I have delayed sitting to dinner in hopes that you would be here. You can see—" he waved an all-inclusive hand—"that we have not been idle aboard the James. We begin to look like a ship again, eh? Did you by chance see the new mizzen?"
"You better come to der cabin," said Peter abruptly.