heir places, and stealing out from the poisoned air of the cabin, came
forth into the freshness of the early dawn, with the soft, scent-laden
breeze in their faces and the first red feathers of cloud catching the
earliest gleam of the rising sun as it shot its golden rays over the
palm-clad ridges of distant Hispaniola.

That morning a second council of the Rovers was held at the base of
the mainmast, and a deputation chosen to see the captain. They were
approaching the after-cabins when Sharkey came forth, the old devil in
his eyes, and his bandolier with a pair of pistols over his shoulder.

"Sink you all for villains!" he cried, "Would you dare to cross my
hawse? Stand out, Sweetlocks, and I will lay you open! Here, Galloway,
Martin, Foley, stand by me and lash the dogs to their kennel!"

But his officers had deserted him, and there was none to come to his
aid. There was a rush of the pirates. One was shot through the body, but
an instant afterwards Sharkey had been seized and was triced to his own
mainmast. His filmy eyes looked round from face to face, and there was
none who felt the happier for having met them.

"Captain Sharkey," said Sweetlocks, "you have mishandled many of us, and
you have now pistolled John Masters, besides killing Bartholomew, the
carpenter, by braining him with a bucket. All this might have been
forgiven you, in that you have been our leader for years, and that we
have signed articles to serve under you while the voyage lasts. But
now we have heard of this bona roba on board, and we know that you are
poisoned to the marrow, and that while you rot there will be no
safety for any of us, but that we shall all be turned into filth and
corruption. Therefore, John Sharkey, we Rovers of _The Happy Delivery_,
in council assembled, have decreed that while there be yet time, before
the plague spreads, you shall be set adrift in a boat to find such a
fate as Fortune may be pleased to send you."

John Sharkey said nothing, but slowly circling his head, he cursed them
all with his baleful gaze. The ship's dinghy had been lowered, and he
with his hands still tied, was dropped into it on the bight of a rope.

"Cast her off!" cried Sweetlocks.

"Nay, hold hard a moment, Master Sweetlocks!" shouted one of the crew.
"What of the wench? Is she to bide aboard and poison us all?"

"Send her off with her mate!" cried another, and the Rovers roared their
approval. Driven forth at the end of pikes, the girl