him under without a sign or word from any
that stood there. There was not one sound heard inside the church or out,
except Mr. Glennie's reading and my amens, and now and then a sob from
the poor child. But when 'twas all over, and the coffin safe lowered, up
she walks to Tom Tewkesbury saying, through her tears "I thank you, sir,
for your kindness," and holds out her hand. So he took it, looking askew,
and afterwards the five other bearers; and then she walked away by
herself, and no one moved till she had left the churchyard gate, letting
her pass out like a queen.' 'And so she is a queen,' I said, not being
able to keep from speaking, for very pride to hear how she had borne
herself, and because she had always shown kindness to me. 'So she is, and
fairer than any queen to boot.'

Ratsey gave me a questioning look, and I could see a little smile upon
his face in the firelight. 'Ay, she is fair enough,' said he, as though
reflecting to himself, 'but white and thin. Mayhap she would make a match
for thee--if ye were man and woman, and not boy and girl; if she were not
rich, and thou not poor and an outlaw; and--if she would have thee.'

It vexed me to hear his banter, and to think how I had let my secret out,
so I did not answer, and we sat by the embers for a while without
speaking, while the wind still blew through the cave like a funnel.

Ratsey spoke first. 'John, pass me the flask; I can hear voices mounting
the cliff of those poor souls of the _Florida_.'

With that he took another heavy pull, and flung a log on the fire, till
sparks flew about as in a smithy, and the flame that had slumbered woke
again and leapt out white, blue, and green from the salt wood. Now, as
the light danced and flickered I saw a piece of parchment lying at
Ratsey's feet: and this was none other than the writing out of
Blackbeard's locket, which I had been reading when I first heard
footsteps in the passage, and had dropped in my alarm of hostile
visitors. Ratsey saw it too, and stretched out his hand to pick it up. I
would have concealed it if I could, because I had never told him how I
had rifled Blackbeard's coffin, and did not want to be questioned as to
how I had come by the writing. But to try to stop him getting hold of it
would only have spurred his curiosity, and so I said nothing when he took
it in his hands.

'What is this, son?' asked he.

'It is only Scripture verses,' I answered, 'which I got some time ago.
'Tis said