And on those nights, the
air being still though a heavy swell was running, I heard thrice or more
a throttled scream come shivering across the meadows from the graveyard.
Yet beyond turning my blood cold for a moment, it gave me little trouble,
for evil tales have hung about the church; and though I did not set much
store by the old yarns of Blackbeard piping up his crew, yet I thought
strange things might well go on among the graves at night. And so I never
budged, nor stirred hand or foot to save a fellow-creature in his agony.
'But when the surf fell enough for the boats to get ashore, and Greening
held a lantern for me to jump down into the passage, after we had got the
side out of the tomb, the first thing the light fell on at the bottom
was a white face turned skyward. I have not forgot that, lad, for 'twas
Cracky Jones lay there, with his face thin and shrunk, yet all the doited
look gone out of it. We tried to force some brandy in his mouth, but he
was stark and dead; with knees drawn up towards his head, so stiff we had
to lift him doubled as he was, and lay him by the churchyard wall for
some of us to find next day. We never knew how he got there, but guessed
that he had hung about the landers some night when they ran a cargo, and
slipped in when the watchman's back was turned.
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