jingling them in their calloused palms, guessing at weight and value, calculating their equivalent in the joy of living.  Laughter and oaths resounded.  Mr. Tubbs, with a somewhat anxious air, endeavored to keep himself well to the fore, claiming a share in the triumph with the rest.  There was only the thinnest veil of concealment over the pirates’ mockery.  “Old Washtubs” was ironically encouraged in his role of boon companion.  His air of swaggering recklessness, of elderly dare-deviltry, provoked uproarious amusement.  When they sat down to supper Mr. Tubbs was installed at the head of the table.  They hailed him as the discoverer who had made their fortunes.  From their talk it was clear that there had been much difficulty about finding the cave, and that for a time Mr. Tubbs’s position had been precarious.  Finally Captain Magnus had stumbled upon the entrance.

“Jest in time,” as he grimly reminded Mr. Tubbs, “to save you a header over the cliff.”

“Ha, ha!” cackled Mr. Tubbs hysterically, “you boys will have your little joke, eh?  Knew well enough you couldn’t get along without the old man, didn’t you?  Knew you was goin’ to need an old financial head to square things in certain quarters—­a head what understands how to slip a little coin into the scales o’ justice to make ’em tilt the right way.  Oh, you can’t fool the old man, he, he!”

While the marauders enjoyed their supper, the women prisoners were bidden to “set down and stay sot,” within sweep of Captain Tony’s eye.  Mr. Shaw and Cuthbert Vane still held the position they had occupied all afternoon, with their backs propped against a palm tree.  Occasionally they exchanged a whisper, but for the most part were silent, their cork helmets jammed low over their watchful eyes.  I was deeply curious to know what Mr. Shaw had made of the strange story of the skeleton in the cave.  He could hardly have accepted Captain Tony’s explanation of it, which displayed, indeed, an imperfect knowledge of the legend of the Bonny Lass.  Might not the Scotchman, by linking this extraordinary discovery with my unexplained request of him this morning, have arrived already at some glimmering of the truth?  I hoped so, and longed to impart to him my own sure knowledge that the confident expectations of the freebooters for the morrow were doomed to disappointment.  There seemed a measure of comfort in this assurance, for our moment of greatest peril well might be that in which the pirates, with the gold in their possession and on the point of fleeing from the island, recalled the respectable because so truthful maxim that dead men tell no tales.  Therefore in the postponement of the crucial moment lay our best hope of rescue or escape.

On the other hand, I fancied them returning from the cave surly and disappointed, ready to vent their wrath on us.  All, except the unspeakable Magnus, had shown so far a rough good nature, even amusement at our plight, but you felt the snarl at the corner of the grinning lips.  You knew they would be undependable as savages or vicious children, who find pleasure in inflicting pain.  And then there was always my own hideous danger as the favored of the wolfish captain—­