A long and fearful silence succeeded the announcement of this intelligence, which was only interrupted by Griffith, who said:
“Explain the manner of his death, sir, and where his body lies.”
“His body lies interred in the sands,” returned Merry, with a deliberation that proceeded from an opening perception that, if he uttered too much, he might betray the loss of the Ariel, and, consequently, endanger the liberty of Barnstable.
“In the sands?” was echoed from every part of the room.
“Ay, in the sands; but how he died, I cannot explain.”
“He has been murdered!” exclaimed Colonel Howard, whose command of utterance was now amply restored to him; “he has been treacherously, and dastardly, and basely murdered!”
“He has not been murdered,” said the boy, firmly; “nor did he meet his death among those who deserve the name either of traitors or of dastards.”
“Said you not that he was dead? that my kinsman was buried in the sands of the seashore?”
“Both are true, sir—”
“And you refuse to explain how he met his death, and why he has been thus ignominiously interred?”