"Simon Colliver!"
I leapt down into the pit beside him, and laid my hand upon his shoulder. He paused for a moment, and looked up with a vacant gleam in his deep eyes.
"Colliver, I have to speak a word with you."
"Oh, yes, I know you. Trenoweth, of course: Ezekiel Trenoweth come back again after the treasure. But you are too late, too late, too late! You are dead now—ha, ha! dead and rotting.
"For his glittering eyes are the salt sea's prize,
And his fingers clutch the sand, my lads.
"For his glittering eyes are the salt sea's prize,
And his fingers clutch the sand, my lads.
"Aha! his fingers clutch the sand. Here's pretty sand for you! sand of all colours; look, look, there's a brave sparkle!" And again he ran the priceless shower through his fingers.
"Oh, yes," he continued after a moment, looking up, "oh, yes, I know you—Ezekiel Trenoweth, of course; or is it Amos, or Jasper? No matter, you are all dead. I killed the last of you last year—no, last night; all dead.
"And the devil has got his due, my lads!
"And the devil has got his due, my lads!