TO
MY MOTHER
CONTENTS
| CHAP. | PAGE | |
| I. | Scampering Away | [ 11] |
| II. | Francis Dreams a Dream | [ 19] |
| III. | The Castaways | [ 22] |
| IV. | Villainy | [ 27] |
| V. | the Englishman’s Relation. (The Island) | [ 32] |
| VI. | The Englishman’s Relation Continued. (The Cell) | [ 38] |
| VII. | A Horrible Villain | [ 47] |
| VIII. | Thalass | [ 51] |
| IX. | Ouvery Delivers up the Chart | [ 56] |
| X. | We Fall in With the Fleet of Captain Morgan. The Buccaneer’s Hut | [ 59] |
| XI. | The Mad Maroon | [ 75] |
| XII. | The Warning Sea | [ 85] |
| XIII. | The Ghost | [ 91] |
| XIV. | The Cut Cable | [ 100] |
| XV. | The Island of the Holy | [ 104] |
| XVI. | Spies of Canaan | [ 106] |
| XVII. | Doctor Copicus | [ 114] |
| XVIII. | The Running Man | [ 120] |
| XIX. | The Cloisters. The Doctor and the Volcan | [ 127] |
| XX. | The Phantom Voice | [ 133] |
| XXI. | The Manuscripts | [ 138] |
| XXII. | The Glorious Pirate | [ 142] |
| XXIII. | Hey-diddle-diddle! | [ 145] |
| XXIV. | A Curse Falls Upon the Wolves | [ 148] |
| XXV. | A Gaudy Picture in a Dark Frame | [ 153] |
| XXVI. | The Treasure Chamber | [ 162] |
| XXVII. | Francis Finds his Brother’s Watch | [ 168] |
| XXVIII. | The Ghost Face | [ 172] |
| XXIX. | The Float. The Walking Lad | [ 176] |
| XXX. | How Now? | [ 180] |
| XXXI. | Neither One nor the Other | [ 184] |
| XXXII. | Hell Shore | [ 188] |
| Supplement | [ 192] | |
THE HAUNTED ISLAND
CHAPTER I.
SCAMPERING AWAY.
On Christmas Eve, 1668, I, Francis Clayton, was with my brother Dick at Clayton Manor, our father’s house. ’Tis seated on the bottom of a Bay near Wembury, on the sea coast of Devon. My brother served in quality of lieutenant on board His Majesty’s ship Tiger, and was but late returned from a cruise off the Island of Jamaica. His ship lay at anchor in the bay.
We sat over against one another on the hearth, in my little snug room. The Squire and the servants were a-bed. The great old house slept, with starting and creaking of the timbers. The fire was sunk together, burning with a clear glow; the candles were wasted to the snuff in their sockets.
My brother told a marvellous tale of the South Sea, of an island there haunted by spirits, particularly by a monstrous great ghoul, or devil.
“Many rumours,” said he, “are gotten abroad of this enchanted island. ’Tis said that he who laid up the treasure had a truck with the devil, and that a frightful fiend hath guard over it. I do certainly know ’tis there. As to the rest, I am nothing concerned with such fantastic gear. Once ashore there,” said he, “and not all the devils in hell shall keep me from the treasure! Yet, if seamen who have seen the Thing be not extremely out, ’tis a pretty wight! The head of it, say they, reaches unto the clouds, and the appearance of it is frightful out of all description.”