Unwittingly, for it was very dark, Hugh Morris seated himself on one of the old graves, and about thirty like-minded men gathered round him. Little did they know that Otto was one of the party! Our little hero, being sharp eyed and eared, had seen and overheard enough in the camp that day to induce him to watch Morris after he left the cave, and follow him to the rendezvous.
“My lads,” said Morris, “I’ve done my best to keep them to the reef, but that blackguard Malines won’t hear of it. He’s bent on takin’ ’em all to the big island, so they’re sure to go, and we won’t get the help o’ the other men: but no matter; wi’ blocks an’ tackle we’ll do it ourselves, so we can afford to remain quiet till our opportunity comes. I’m quite sure the ship lays in such a position that we can get her over the ledge into deep water, and so be able to draw round into the open sea, and then—”
“Hurrah for the black flag and the southern seas,” cried one of the party.
“No, no, Jabez Jenkins,” said Morris, “we don’t mean to be pirates; only free rovers.”
“Hallo! what’s this?” exclaimed another of the party. “A cross, I do believe! and this mound—why, it’s a grave!”
“And here’s another one!” said Jabez, in a hoarse whisper. “Seems to me we’ve got into a cannibal churchyard, or—”
“Bo–o–o–o–oo!” groaned Otto at that moment, in the most horribly sepulchral tone he could command.
Nothing more was wanted. With one consent the conspirators leapt up and fled from the dreadful spot in a frenzy of unutterable consternation.