sunny atmosphere among the green tree-tops, I thought it had sounded airily and sweetly, and the effect on my companions was the stranger.
"Come," said Silver, struggling with his ashen lips to get the word out, "that won't do. Stand by to go about. This is a rum start, and I can't name the voice, but.it's someone skylarking—someone that's flesh and blood, and you may lay to that."
His courage had come back as he spoke, and some of the color to his face along with it. Already the others had begun to lend an ear to his encouragement, and were coming a little to themselves, when the same voice broke out again—not this time singing, but in a faint, distant hail, that echoed yet fainter among the clefts of the Spy-glass.
"Darby McGraw," it wailed—for that is the word that best describes the sound—" Darby McGraw! Darby McGraw!" again and again and again; and then rising a little higher, and with an oath that I leave out: "Fetch aft the rum, Darby!"
The buccaneers remained rooted to the ground, their eyes starting from their heads. Long after the voice had died away they still stared in silence, dreadfully, before them.
"That fixes it!" gasped one. "Let's go."
"They was his last words,' moaned Morgan, "his last words above-board."
Dick had his Bible out and was praying volubly. He had been well brought up, had Dick, before he came to sea and fell among bad companions,
