of
Abnegation's knife as they rolled and twisted in the shadow of this
rock, whiles, from this shadow, rose a shrill crying like the wail of a
hurt child, and into the moonlight came a great, fat hand that clutched
and tore at the sand then grew suddenly still, and with crooked fingers
plunged deep into the sand like a white claw. Then, tossing aside his
bloody knife, Abnegation Mings struggled to his feet and came
staggering to kneel above his comrade Tressady and to turn up the
pallid face of him to the moon.

And now Adam thrust away his pistols and with hands clasped behind him,
turned to face the gloomy shadows of Skeleton Cove:

"Come out, sons o' dogs!" says he. "Step forward and show
yourselves--and lively it is!" Ensued a moment's breathless pause,
then, from bush and shadow and rocks, they stole forth these thirty and
eight and, at Adam's harsh command, lined up before him shoulder and
shoulder. "Well," says Adam, pacing slowly along their rank to peer
into every sullen, hang-dog face. "Am I captain here? Aye or no?"

"Aye--aye!" they cried in eager chorus.

"And us was promised a free pardon, Cap'n!" quoth one.

"And a share of the treasure, Cap'n!" says another.

"And England, Cap'n!" cried a third. "There's some on us as do be
honest sailor-men and forced to turn pirate in spite o' we--"

"Avast!" says Adam. "What I promise I stand by. But mark this! Let
any man fail of his duty to me but once and I shoot that man or hang
him out o' hand--is't understood?"

"Aye, aye, Cap'n--'tis agreed! We'll serve ye faithful and true," they
cried.

"Why then, bring ropes!" says Adam, and with his new 'listed men at his
heels, goes whither lay Tressady and with Abnegation Mings yet crouched
above him.

What now was doing I might not see by reason of the crowd, but I heard
the voice of Mings upraised in fierce invective, and the throng
presently parting, beheld him trussed hand and foot and dragged along
with Tressady towards Bartlemy's tree. There a noose was set about the
neck of each, and the rope's ends cast over a branch. But as at Adam's
command these miserable wretches were hauled aloft to their deaths, my
lady uttered a cry of horror and grasped my arm in desperate hands.

"Martin!" she panted, "O Martin, 'tis horrible! Save them, this must
not--shall not be--"

"'Tis but justice," says I, "these men are pirates and murderers--"

"This is no justice!" cries she breathlessly, her face al