The Black Spot Again

           Thecouncilofbuccaneershadlastedsometime,whenoneofthemre-enteredthehouse,andwitharepetitionofthesamesalute,whichhadinmyeyesanironicalair,beggedforamoment’sloanofthetorch.Silverbrieflyagreed,andthisemissaryretiredagain,leavingustogetherinthedark.

           "There’sabreezecoming,Jim,"saidSilver,whohadbythistimeadoptedquiteafriendlyandfamiliartone.

           Iturnedtotheloopholenearestmeandlookedout.TheembersofthegreatfirehadsofarburnedthemselvesoutandnowglowedsolowandduskilythatIunderstoodwhytheseconspiratorsdesiredatorch.Abouthalf-waydowntheslopetothestockade,theywerecollectedinagroup;oneheldthelight,anotherwasonhiskneesintheirmidst,andIsawthebladeofanopenknifeshineinhishandwithvaryingcoloursinthemoonandtorchlight.Therestwereallsomewhatstooping,asthoughwatchingthemanoeuvresofthislast.Icouldjustmakeoutthathehadabookaswellasaknifeinhishand,andwasstillwonderinghowanythingsoincongruoushadcomeintheirpossessionwhenthekneelingfigureroseoncemoretohisfeetandthewholepartybegantomovetogethertowardsthehouse.

           "Heretheycome,"saidI;andIreturnedtomyformerposition,foritseemedbeneathmydignitythattheyshouldfindmewatchingthem.

           "Well,let’emcome,lad—let’emcome,"saidSilvercheerily."I’vestillashotinmylocker."

           Thedooropened,andthefivemen,standinghuddledtogetherjustinside,pushedoneoftheirnumberforward.Inanyothercircumstancesitwouldhavebeencomicaltoseehisslowadvance,hesitatingashesetdowneachfoot,butholdinghisclosedrighthandinfrontofhim.