oom--a staircase--an open window leading
in another direction to that where the men were busy! If he could find
any of these he might be safe, and he was about to try and search for
some means of concealment or escape when a cold shudder of superstitious
dread ran through him, and he began to recall all he had read of haunted
houses, for from somewhere in the darkness in front of him, he heard a
low, piteous cry.

Archy was as courageous as most boys of his age, as he was proving by
his adventurous acts; but this sound, heard by a lad living in a
generation wanting in our modern enlightenment, paralysed him. His
blood seemed to run cold, his lips parted, his throat felt dry, and a
peculiar shiver ran over his skin, accompanied by a sensation as if tiny
fingers, cold as ice, were parting and turning his hair.

Again the sigh came, to be followed by a cold current of air, which
swept across the boy's face, and then there was a low rustling sound,
which hovered in front of him, and went up and up and up, and then
slowly died away.

Archy's first impulse, as he recovered himself a little in the silence
which followed, was to turn, open the door, and flee. But he hesitated.
It would be right into the hands of the enemy. Besides, the terribly
chilling sounds he had heard had ceased, and he felt less cowardly.

"Perhaps," he said to himself, "it was fancy, or nothing to be afraid
of."

A heavy step on the other side of the door alarmed him more, and
stretching out his hands, he stepped forward, went cautiously on and on,
and at the end of a few yards touched what felt like panelling. The
next moment he realised that he had reached a door, which was yielding,
and he passed into a room, to scent the cool night air, and hear subdued
sounds without and below.

He was in a room over the cellar, he was sure, and the window was wide
open. He crept to it, guided by the cold air which came in, and had
just reached it when he heard rapid footsteps, and some one panted,--

"Where's the skipper?"

"Here. What is it?" whispered Shackle, who seemed close to where the
midshipman stood.

"Jemmy Dadd--came from the cove. Boat's crew landed."

"Run down and tell them all to come back," said Shackle hoarsely.

"I did, and they're coming. I met first man."

"Right! Get all back in quick!"

As he finished speaking, Archy could hear the dull, soft steps of laden
men returning, and more and more kept coming, and it was soon