more menacing note than that of the larger animals, and he plainly saw
the ruffians shiver. He was creating in them the state of mind that he
wanted, and his spirits flamed yet higher. All things seemed possible to
him in his present mood.

He moved once more and then lay flat in the dense bushes. He fancied
that the pirates would presently fire another volley into the shadows,
and, in a moment of desperate courage, might even come into the forest.
His first thought was correct, as the leader told off the steadier men,
and, walking up and down in front of the forest, they raked it for a
considerable distance with pistol shots. All of them, of course, passed
well over Robert's head, and as soon as they finished he went back to
his beginnings, giving forth the owl's lament.

He heard the leader curse more fiercely than ever before, and he saw
several of the men who had been pulling trigger retreat to the fire. It
was evident to him that the terror of the thing was entering their
souls. The night itself, as if admiring his plan, was lending him the
greatest possible aid. The crimson lightning never ceased to quiver and
the sullen rumble of the distant thunder was increasing. It was easy
enough for men, a natural prey to superstition, and, with the memories
of many crimes, to believe that the island was haunted, that the ghosts
of those they had slain were riding the lightning, and that demons,
taking the forms of animals, were waiting for them in the bushes.

But the swart leader was a man of courage and he still held his ruffians
together. He cursed them fiercely, told them to stand firm, to reload
their pistols and to be ready for any danger. Those who still slumbered
by the fire were kicked until they awoke, and, with something of a
commander's skill, the man drew up his besotted band against the mystic
dangers that threatened so closely.

But Robert produced a new menace. He was like one inspired that night.
The dramatic always appealed to him and his success stimulated him to
new histrionic efforts. He had planted in their minds the terror of
animals, now he would sow the yet greater terror of human beings,
knowing well that man's worst and most dreaded enemy was man.

He uttered a deep groan, a penetrating, terrible groan, the wail of a
soul condemned to wander between the here and the hereafter, a cry from
one who had been murdered, a cry that would doubtless appeal to every
one of the ruffians as the cry of hi