W E made our best speed across the strip of wood
that now divided us from the stockade, and at
every step we took the voices of the buccaneers
rang nearer. Soon we could hear their footfalls as they
ran, and the cracking of the branches as they breasted
across a bit of thicket.

I began to see we should have a brush for it in
earnest, and looked to my priming.

"Captain," said I, " Trelawney is the dead shot.
Give him your gun; his own is useless."

They exchanged guns, and Trelawney, silent and
cool, as he had been since the beginning of the bustle,
hung a moment on his heel to see that all was fit for
service. At the same time, observing Gray to be
unarmed, I handed him my cutlass. It did all our
hearts good to see him spit in his hand, knit his
brows, and make the blade sing through the air. It
was plain from every line of his body that our new
hand was worth his salt.

Forty paces farther we came to the edge of the
wood and saw the stockade in front of us. We struck
the inclosure about the middle of the south side, and,

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