PART ONE: The Old Buccaneer
Chapter 5: The Last of the Blind Man
(continued)
"Is it there?" roared Pew.
"The money's there."
The blind man cursed the money.
"Flint's fist, I mean," he cried.
"We don't see it here nohow," returned the man.
"Here, you below there, is it on Bill?" cried the blind
man again.
At that another fellow, probably him who had remained
below to search the captain's body, came to the door of
the inn. "Bill's been overhauled a'ready," said he;
"nothin' left."
"It's these people of the inn--it's that boy. I wish I
had put his eyes out!" cried the blind man, Pew.
"There were no time ago--they had the door bolted when
I tried it. Scatter, lads, and find 'em."
"Sure enough, they left their glim here," said the
fellow from the window.
"Scatter and find 'em! Rout the house out!" reiterated
Pew, striking with his stick upon the road.
Then there followed a great to-do through all our old
inn, heavy feet pounding to and fro, furniture thrown
over, doors kicked in, until the very rocks re-echoed
and the men came out again, one after another, on the
road and declared that we were nowhere to be found.
And just the same whistle that had alarmed my mother
and myself over the dead captain's money was once more
clearly audible through the night, but this time twice
repeated. I had thought it to be the blind man's trumpet,
so to speak, summoning his crew to the assault, but I now
found that it was a signal from the hillside towards the
hamlet, and from its effect upon the buccaneers, a signal
to warn them of approaching danger.
"There's Dirk again," said one. "Twice! We'll have to
budge, mates."
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