Again I shook my head.

“They haven’t found the gold,” I assured him.

The astonished faces grew more anxious.  “It sho’ have told on li’le Miss Jinny’s brain,” muttered Cookie to himself.

“They haven’t found the gold,” I reiterated with emphasis, “because the gold is not in the cave.  Don’t ask me how I know, because there isn’t time to tell you.  There was no gold there but the two bags that the pirates brought back last night.  The—­the skeleton moved it all out.”

“My Lawd!” groaned Cookie, staggering backward.

“Virginia!  I had no idea you were superstitious!” quavered Aunt Jane.

“I say, do take some sleeping tablets or something and quiet your nerves!” implored Cuthbert with the tenderest solicitude.

In my exasperation I stamped my foot.

“And while we are arguing here the pirates may be starting back to camp!  And then we’ll have to kill them and go home and give ourselves up to be hanged!  Please, please, come with me and let me show you that I know!” I lifted my eyes to the intent face of Dugald Shaw.

“All right,” he said tersely.  “I think you do know.  How and what, we’ll find out later.”  Rapidly he made his plan, got together the things needful for its execution, looked to the bonds of the still dazed and drowsy prisoners, posted Cookie in their neighborhood with a pair of pistols, and commanded Aunt Jane to dry her tears and look after Miss Higglesby-Browne, who had dismayed every one by most inopportunely toppling over in a perfectly genuine swoon.

Then the Scotchman, Cuthbert Vane and I set off through the woods.  The men were heavily armed, and I had recovered my own little revolver and restored it to my belt.  Mr. Shaw had seen to this, and had said to me, very quietly: 

“You know, Virginia, if things don’t go our way, it may be necessary for you to use it—­on yourself.”

And I nodded assentingly.

We went in silence through the green hush of the woods, moving in single file.  My place as guide was in the van, but Mr. Shaw deposed me from it and went ahead himself, while Cuthbert Vane brought up the rear.  No one spoke, even to whisper.  I guided Dugald Shaw, when needful, by a light touch upon the arm.  Our enterprise was one of utmost danger.  At any moment we might hear the steps and voices of the returning pirates.  Thus fore-warned, we might of course retreat into the woods and let them pass, ourselves unseen.  But then, what of those whom we had left in camp?  Could we leave them undefended to the vengeance of Captain Magnus?  No, if we met the pirates it was their lives or ours—­and I recall with incredulity my resolution to imbed five of my six bullets in a pirate before I turned the sixth upon myself.  I reflected with satisfaction that five bullets should be a fatal dose to any pirate unless an exceptionally tough one.  And I hoped he would not be tough—­