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The Treasure-hunt — The Voice Among the Trees

           Eversincetheyhadfoundtheskeletonandgotuponthistrainofthought,theyhadspokenlowerandlower,andtheyhadalmostgottowhisperingbynow,sothatthesoundoftheirtalkhardlyinterruptedthesilenceofthewood.Allofasudden,outofthemiddleofthetreesinfrontofus,athin,high,tremblingvoicestruckupthewell-knownairandwords:

           "Fifteenmenonthedeadman’schest—

           Yo-ho-ho,andabottleofrum!"

           Ineverhaveseenmenmoredreadfullyaffectedthanthepirates.Thecolourwentfromtheirsixfaceslikeenchantment;someleapedtotheirfeet,someclawedholdofothers;Morgangrovelledontheground.

           "It’sFlint,by——!"criedMerry.

           Thesonghadstoppedassuddenlyasitbegan—brokenoff,youwouldhavesaid,inthemiddleofanote,asthoughsomeonehadlaidhishanduponthesinger’smouth.Comingthroughtheclear,sunnyatmosphereamongthegreentree-tops,Ithoughtithadsoundedairilyandsweetly;andtheeffectonmycompanionswasthestranger.

           "Come,"saidSilver,strugglingwithhisashenlipstogetthewordout;"thiswon’tdo.Standbytogoabout.Thisisarumstart,andIcan’tnamethevoice,butit’ssomeoneskylarking—someonethat’sfleshandblood,andyoumaylaytothat."

           Hiscouragehadcomebackashespoke,andsomeofthecolourtohisfacealongwithit.Alreadytheothershadbeguntolendaneartothisencouragementandwerecomingalittletothemselves,whenthesamevoicebrokeoutagain—notthistimesinging,butinafaintdistanthailthatechoedyetfainteramongthecleftsoftheSpy-glass.

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Roboto Lora
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