Page:Doctor Syn - A Smuggler Tale of the Romney Marsh.djvu/305

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THE DEAD MAN'S THROTTLE
293

use, tell him. The crew's afraid of me. They're only muttering, they daren't speak again, for I've settled with Pete, the yellow cook—broke his spine in with a capstan bar. How it did get wedged between the bone. I tore it out with my nails. There goes Pete's body over the side into the clear water. Ugh! what a horrible splash it makes! The water doesn't seem to hide him much! There's his ugly yellow face still! Why don't the water hide him? It hides lots of other ugly things, damn it! The breeze, thank God! We are slipping away, faster, faster. The coral reef is sinking into the deep sea. The marooned scoundrel, the damned mulatto, can't throw a harpoon from there, he can't! He's dead already! Cram on the canvas, every inch! Get up aloft! Won't take my orders, eh? Get up! Get up! I'll teach you who Clegg is! Ah! look there! There's something following the ship. What a horrible face it has! My God, it's yellow! Horrible! It's coming out of the sea! It's creeping over the stern, along the deck! It's coming to the roundhouse! Lock the door! No! No! It's here inside the roundhouse. You've locked it in with me, you fools! You cowards, it's following me round! It isn't him! It isn't him! It's a shadow—a damned silly shadow. Where's the rum? Mipps, you damned little pirate, where have you hid the rum?

"Here's to the corpses floating round in the tank;
And the dead man's teeth in the bottle."