"The plague!" ejaculated the Resurrection Man and the Buffer in the same breath.
"The plague!" repeated Moll Wicks, with a shudder.
"Neither more or less," said Swot, coolly emptying his second mug of grog.
There was a dead silence for some moments.
It seemed as if the spirits of those who had listened with deep attention to the foreman's narrative, were suddenly damped by the explanation that closed it.
"Well—are you afraid?" asked Swot, at length breaking silence.
"No," returned the Resurrection Man, throwing off the depression which had fallen upon him. "But there is something awful in boarding a plague-ship."
"Are you sure the gold dust is on board?" demanded the Buffer.
"Certain. My information is quite correct. Besides, you may get the newspapers and read all about it for yourselves."
"The thing is tempting," said Moll.