Not a moment too soon.
There was a tug at the rope, and the boat was dragged from beneath the pier. Then several cursing, growling, shivering men dropped into it.
Capt. Horn was there. He snarled at everybody, he swore at everybody, he was furious.
“A lot of lubberly cowards!” he raved. “A lot of fools! You were scared at nothing!”
“No, sir,” said a sullen voice. “I heard it, cap’n.”
“An’ I felt it’s touch, cap’n,” chattered another, who seemed almost overcome with terror.
One of the men planted his heel fairly on Frank’s fingers, but Merry set his teeth and made no attempt to pull his hand away, although he felt that his fingers would be crushed. It was a great relief when the man removed his foot.
Capt. Horn realized that his men were utterly overcome with fear, and so he allowed them to push off from the pier and row toward the black schooner, which was hidden in the darkness of the cove.
The waves beat against the boat with heavy thuds, but the arms of the sailors were strengthened by fear, and they pulled lustily, seeming in terror that the ghost of the pirate chief should follow them even after they had left the island.
Capt. Horn continued to curse and snarl. His captive was silent.