The story relates that somewhere on the coast Captain Kidd had captured a young lady named Hannah, and not knowing what to do with her, and desiring not to commit an unnecessary extravagance by disposing of a useful sailor, he determined to kill Hannah, and bury her with the treasure, in order that she might keep away intruders until he came for it.

It was very natural that when Hannah was brought on shore and found out what was going to be done with her, she should screech in a most dreadful manner, and although the pirates soon silenced her and covered her up, they did not succeed in silencing her spirit, and ever since that time,—­according to the stories told by some of the older inhabitants of Cape Cod,—­there may be heard in the early dusk of the evening the screeches of Hannah coming across the water from her little island to the mainland.

Mr. James Herbert Morse has written a ballad founded upon this peculiar incident, and with the permission of the author we give it here:—­

          THE LADY HANNAH.

    “Now take my hand,” quoth Captain Kidd,
      “The air is blithe, I scent the meads.” 
    He led her up the starlit sands,
      Out of the rustling reeds.

    The great white owl then beat his breast,
      Athwart the cedars whirred and flew;
    “There’s death in our handsome captain’s eye”
      Murmured the pirate’s crew.

    And long they lay upon their oars
      And cursed the silence and the chill;
    They cursed the wail of the rising wind,
      For no man dared be still.

    Of ribald songs they sang a score
      To stifle the midnight sobs and sighs,
    They told wild tales of the Indian Main,
      To drown the far-off cries.

    But when they ceased, and Captain Kidd
      Came down the sands of Dead Neck Isle,
    “My lady wearies,” he grimly said,
      “And she would rest awhile.

    “I’ve made her a bed—­’tis here, ’tis there,
      And she shall wake, be it soon or long,
    Where grass is green and wild birds sing
      And the wind makes undersong.

    “Be quick, my men, and give a hand,
      She loved soft furs and silken stuff,
    Jewels of gold and silver bars,
      And she shall have enough.

    “With silver bars and golden ore,
      So fine a lady she shall be,
    A many suitor shall seek her long,
      As they sought Penelope.

    “And if a lover would win her hand,
      No lips e’er kissed a hand so white,
    And if a lover would hear her sing,
      She sings at owlet light.

    “But if a lover would win her gold,
      And his hands be strong to lift the lid,
    ’Tis here, ’tis there, ’tis everywhere—­
      In the chest,” quoth Captain Kidd.

    They lifted long, they lifted well,
      Ingots of gold, and silver bars,
      And silken plunder from wild, wild wars,
    But where they laid them, no man can tell,
      Though known to a thousand stars.