on a lee shore, and so you'll find. I stand here and tell you so; and they're the last good words you'll get from me, for, in the name of Heaven, I'll put a bullet in your back when next I meet you. Tramp, my lad. Bundle out of this, please, hand over hand, and double-quick."
Silver's face was a picture; his eyes started in his head with wrath. He shook the fire out of his pipe.
"Give me a hand up!" he cried.
"Not I," returned the captain.
"Who'll give me a hand up?" he roared.
Not a man among us moved. Growling the foulest imprecations, he crawled along the sand till he got hold of the porch and could hoist himself again upon his crutch. Then he spat into the spring.
"There," he cried, "that's what I think of ye. Before an hour's out I'll stove in your old blockhouse like a rum puncheon. Laugh, by thunder, laugh! Before an hour's out ye'll laugh upon the other side. Them that die '11 be the lucky ones."
And with a dreadful oath he stumbled off", plowed down the sand, was helped across the stockade, after four or five failures, by the man with the flag of truce, and disappeared in an instant afterward among the trees.