ared louder than ever, and they saw the dead man seated in
his chest, with his shroud for a sail, coming hard after the ship; and
the sea breaking before him in great sprays like fire, and there they
kept scudding day after day and night after night, expecting every
moment to go to wreck; and every night they saw the dead boatswain in
his sea-chest trying to get up with them, and they heard his whistle
above the blasts of wind, and he seemed to send great seas mountain
high after them, that would have swamped the ship if they had not put
up the dead lights. And so it went on till they lost sight of him in
the fogs of Newfoundland, and supposed he had veered ship and stood for
Dead Man's Isle. So much for burying a man at sea without saying
prayers over him."

The thunder-gust which had hitherto detained the company was now at an
end. The cuckoo clock in the hall struck midnight; every one pressed to
depart, for seldom was such a late hour trespassed on by these quiet
burghers. As they sallied forth they found the heavens once more
serene. The storm which had lately obscured them had rolled aways and
lay piled up in fleecy masses on the horizon, lighted up by the bright
crescent of the moon, which looked like a silver lamp hung up in a
palace of clouds.

The dismal occurrence of the night, and the dismal narrations they had
made, had left a superstitious feeling in every mind. They cast a
fearful glance at the spot where the buccaneer had disappeared, almost
expecting to see him sailing on his chest in the cool moonshine. The
trembling rays glittered along the waters, but all was placid; and the
current dimpled over the spot where he had gone down. The party huddled
together in a little crowd as they repaired homewards; particularly
when they passed a lonely field where a man had been murdered; and he
who had farthest to go and had to complete his journey alone, though a
veteran sexton, and accustomed, one would think to ghosts and goblins,
yet went a long way round, rather than pass by his own church-yard.

Wolfert Webber had now carried home a fresh stock of stories and
notions to ruminate upon. His mind was all of a whirl with these
freebooting tales; and then these accounts of pots of money and Spanish
treasures, buried here and there and every where about the rocks and
bays of this wild shore, made him almost dizzy.

"Blessed St. Nicholas!" ejaculated he, half aloud, "is it not possible
to come upon one of these