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"A nice pair of scare-babies you two are," he said, scathingly. "A great pair you are to help me find old Scroggie's will an' money. Why, say, if you'd only kept your nerve a little, that ghost would'a led us right to the spot, most likely; but 'stead o' that you take to your heels at first sight of it. Say! I thought you both had more sand." "There they be now," she said grimly. "The two worst boys in Scotia, Mrs. Wilson." "He'll be along soon. Here he comes now; no 'taint neither, it's Fatty Watland. Wonder where he's been up that way?".

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A long, harrowing moment passed. Then quickly and close together four shots rang out. Moll whined dolefully and Billy, peering through the rushes, gave a low whistle of surprise. "Didn't down a single bird," he muttered, "an' by gollies, they've sent 'em right across to us." "Well, what kind of a feller is he, anyway? Come, answer up." And clapping her hands as though she was in the box of a theatre ravished by some transcendently fine performance, she once more delivered herself of the maniac laugh which had curdled Paul's blood and which though ringing from lips, though proceeding from a face hidden from him, seemed to strike[Pg 286] Mr Lawrence as nothing which she had spoken had, and save but for the swaying of the ship he stood as motionless as a statue facing another statue whose back was turned to him. "Good!" exulted Stanhope. "Three down, Billy!".