“A sail! a sail! a promised prize to Hope.
* * * * *
Blow fair, thou breeze! she anchors ere the dark;
How gloriously her gallant course she goes,
Her white wings flying....
She walks the waters like a thing of life.”—Byron.
“‘AFTER all my adventures and the hard work and fatigue I had undergone in burying the gold, I slept soundly that night. I must have gone off almost immediately after I turned in. At all events, I heard nothing until the little nigger, Joe, came to tell me that “Pletty soon, sah, de flies gobble up all de bleakfast suppose you no come.”
“‘I was a little surprised that I saw no breakfast taken to the prisoners, and still more so when I went towards the door of their prison and found it ajar.
“‘I at once asked Morgan about the men. He smiled grimly.
“‘“Dead men tell no tales,” he said.
“‘Then he resumed his walk up and down the deck.
“‘I was horrified. Curses rose to my lips, but I did not utter them. I believe my hand felt its way to my pistol-belt, and I rushed down below for fear of doing something desperate.
“‘Morgan had murdered his prisoners, poisoned them and thrown them into the sea through the port, for fear they might tell to others the whereabouts of the hidden gold.
“‘I threw myself into my bunk and reasoned out all my plans.
“‘As soon as I went to Jamaica I determined to leave Morgan and his blood-stained fleet for ever and aye. I would put myself in communication with O’More, who indeed already knew my English address, and as soon as they reached Ireland and got settled, I should hurry across and claim my bride.