by M'Graw," it wailed--for that is the word that best describes the
sound--"Darby M'Graw! Darby M'Graw!" again and again and again; and then
rising a little higher, and with an oath that I leave out, "Fetch aft
the rum, Darby!"

The buccaneers remained rooted to the ground, their eyes starting from
their heads. Long after the voice had died away they still stared in
silence, dreadfully, before them.

"That fixes it!" gasped one. "Let's go."

"They was his last words," moaned Morgan, "his last words above board."

Dick had his Bible out, and was praying volubly. He had been well brought
up, had Dick, before he came to sea and fell among bad companions.

Still, Silver was unconquered. I could hear his teeth rattle in his head;
but he had not yet surrendered.

"Nobody in this here island ever heard of Darby," he muttered: "not one
but us that's here." And then, making a great effort: "Shipmates," he
cried, "I'm here to get that stuff, and I'll not be beat by man nor
devil. I never was feared of Flint in his life, and, by the powers! I'll
face him dead. There's seven hundred thousand pound not a quarter of a
mile from here. When did ever a gentleman o' fortune show his stern to
that much dollars, for a boosy old seaman with a blue mug--and him dead,
too?"

But there was no sign of re-awakening courage in his followers; rather,
indeed, of growing terror at the irreverence of his words.

"Belay there, John!" said Merry. "Don't you cross a sperrit."

And the rest were all too terrified to reply. They would have run away
severally had they dared; but fear kept them together, and kept them
close by John, as if his daring helped them. He, on his part, had pretty
well fought his weakness down.

"Sperrit? Well, maybe," he said. "But there's one thing not clear to me.
There was an echo. Now, no man ever seen a sperrit with a shadow; well,
then, what's he doing with an echo to him, I should like to know? That
ain't in natur', surely?"

This argument seemed weak enough to me. But you can never tell what will
affect the superstitious, and, to my wonder, George Merry was greatly
relieved.

"Well, that's so," he said. "You've a head upon your shoulders, John, and
no mistake. 'Bout ship, mates! This here crew is on a wrong tack, I do
believe. And come to think on it, it was like Flint's voice, I grant you,
but not just so clear-away like it, after all. It was liker somebody
else's voice now--it was liker----"

"By the powe