Mr. Brown made a motion for me to use the shovel, and I was about to do so, but a groan, louder and more unearthly than the original ones, prevented me.

“What, in the devil’s name, is that?” demanded my friend, looking around the island with some symptoms of alarm and curiosity, forgetting, in his eagerness for information, that speaking aloud was strictly prohibited while digging for the gold.

“Perhaps one of your ghosts that you have talked so much about, or it may be the spirit of Bill Swinton, desirous of claiming a share in the booty.”

“I don’t think that,” my friend said, after a short pause; “after all the trouble I had with him—­furnishing the candles to die by, and allowing him luxuries of the most costly description, I don’t think that he would be so mean.”

“Then let us solve our doubts by making search over the island,” I replied, drawing my revolver, determined to shoot at whatever I saw, let it be man or beast, devil or ghost.

“No, no—­don’t do that; we should he decoyed into a bog by an ignis fatuus, and smothered without mercy.  Let us stay where we are, and dig until we see sights that make us abandon the project.”

I agreed to be guided by Mr. Brown’s advice, and once more we began to toil amid the rocks and dead grass.

About this time the moon, which had shone with wonderful brightness while we were digging, became obscured by white clouds from the westward, so that objects on the island were more indistinct, and even the trees on the main land, under which we had left our horses, were no longer discernable.

I thought, as I threw out the earth from the hole which we had already made, that the ground had been dug up before, and I felt encouraged to continue my labors, in hopes that we should soon reach the treasure which we considered belonged to us by bequest.

All thoughts of ghosts and spirits were fast passing away in the excitement of my occupation, when suddenly Mr. Brown dropped his pickaxe and uttered an exclamation.

“Did you hear that?” he cried, pointing in the direction from whence he supposed the sound proceeded.

“No,” I answered, beginning to feel a little of his own alarm.

“If this d——­d island isn’t haunted, I wouldn’t say so,” my companion continued.

“Remember the compact which you proposed, that we were not to exchange a word during our occupation.”

“The devil take the compact, and me, too, if I can help speaking when I hear such unearthly noises.”

Hardly were the words out of his mouth when from the earth arose a form that seemed at least ten feet high.  It was clothed in white, and from its head projected two monstrous horns, which were pointed towards us in a threatening manner.  I could discern no features, but a huge mass of white bones were visible where the face should have been, and I thought that I could hear them rattle as the beast, devil, or ghost shook its head in an ominous manner, and advanced towards us.