第11章 THE LEGEND OF DEVIL'S POINT(2)

He was awakened at midnight by a loud "halloo,"which seemed to proceed directly from the sea.Thinking it might be the cry of some boatman lost in the fog,he walked to the edge of the cliff,but the thick veil that covered sea and land rendered all objects at the distance of a few feet indistinguishable.He heard,however,the regular strokes of oars rising and falling on the water.The halloo was repeated.He was clearing his throat to reply,when to his surprise an answer came apparently from the very cabin he had quitted.Hastily retracing his steps,he was the more amazed,on reaching the open door,to find a stranger warming himself by the fire.Stepping back far enough to conceal his own person,he took a good look at the intruder.

He was a man of about forty,with a cadaverous face.But the oddity of his dress attracted the broker's attention more than his lugubrious physiognomy.His legs were hid in enormously wide trousers descending to his knee,where they met long boots of sealskin.A pea-jacket with exaggerated cuffs,almost as large as the breeches,covered his chest,and around his waist a monstrous belt,with a buckle like a dentist's sign,supported two trumpet-mouthed pistols and a curved hanger.He wore a long queue,which depended half-way down his back.As the firelight fell on his ingenuous countenance the broker observed with some concern that this queue was formed entirely of a kind of tobacco,known as pigtail or twist.Its effect,the broker remarked,was much heightened when in a moment of thoughtful abstraction the apparition bit off a portion of it,and rolled it as a quid into the cavernous recesses of his jaws.

Meanwhile,the nearer splash of oars indicated the approach of the unseen boat.The broker had barely time to conceal himself behind the cabin before a number of uncouth-looking figures clambered up the hill toward the ruined rendezvous.They were dressed like the previous comer,who,as they passed through the open door,exchanged greetings with each in antique phraseology,bestowing at the same time some familiar nickname.Flash-in-the-Pan,Spitter-of-Frogs,Malmsey Butt,Latheyard-Will,and Mark-the-Pinker,were the few sobriquets the broker remembered.Whether these titles were given to express some peculiarity of their owner he could not tell,for a silence followed as they slowly ranged themselves upon the floor of the cabin in a semicircle around their cadaverous host.

At length Malmsey Butt,a spherical-bodied man-of-war's-man,with a rubicund nose,got on his legs somewhat unsteadily,and addressed himself to the company.They had met that evening,said the speaker,in accordance with a time-honored custom.This was simply to relieve that one of their number who for fifty years had kept watch and ward over the locality where certain treasures had been buried.At this point the broker pricked up his ears."If so be,camarados and brothers all,"he continued,"ye are ready to receive the report of our excellent and well-beloved brother,Master Slit-the-Weazand,touching his search for this treasure,why,marry,to 't and begin."A murmur of assent went around the circle as the speaker resumed his seat.Master Slit-the-Weazand slowly opened his lantern jaws,and began.He had spent much of his time in determining the exact location of the treasure.He believed--nay,he could state positively--that its position was now settled.It was true he had done some trifling little business outside.Modesty forbade his mentioning the particulars,but he would simply state that of the three tenants who had occupied the cabin during the past ten years,none were now alive.[Applause,and cries of "Go to!thou wast always a tall fellow!"and the like.]

Mark-the-Pinker next arose.Before proceeding to business he had a duty to perform in the sacred name of Friendship.It ill became him to pass an eulogy upon the qualities of the speaker who had preceded him,for he had known him from "boyhood's hour."Side by side they had wrought together in the Spanish war.For a neat hand with a toledo he challenged his equal,while how nobly and beautifully he had won his present title of Slit-the-Weazand,all could testify.The speaker,with some show of emotion,asked to be pardoned if he dwelt too freely on passages of their early companionship;he then detailed,with a fine touch of humor,his comrade's peculiar manner of slitting the ears and lips of a refractory Jew,who had been captured in one of their previous voyages.He would not weary the patience of his hearers,but would briefly propose that the report of Slit-the-Weazand be accepted,and that the thanks of the company be tendered him.