Commodore Junk Part 38

"Divil a bit!"

"Come back!"

"Divil a bit, I say!"

"You coward!" cried Bart. "Am I to go and do it alone?"

"No, no, Bart, me lad, don't thry it. There's something quare about the owld business."

"Yes," said Bart, savagely. "You turned coward and upset me. I don't know whether I'm most ashamed of you or of myself."

He walked straight back toward where the soft yellow light of the lantern could be seen under the trees, leaving Dinny staring, trembling, and scratching his head.

"He's gone and left me alone," muttered Dinny. "Sure, and is it a Kelly as is a coward? If it was to face a man--or two men--or tin men--I'd do it if I had me shtick. But a dead body as begins to move in its grave as soon as ye thry to lift it out, and says quite plain, wid a kick of its legs, 'Lave me alone, ye spalpeen!' why, it's too much for a boy."

"Are you coming, Dinny?" cried Bart, as he approached the lantern.

"Bedad, and he'll think me a coward if I don't go," said Dinny, panting.

"Sure, and what are ye thrimbling about? D'ye call yourselves legs, and go shakking undher a boy like that? Faix, I'm ashamed of ye! Go along, do; and it isn't me that's freckened, but me legs!"

He mastered his dread and ran swiftly after Bart, who had once more reached the sandy trench.

"I thought you'd come, Dinny," said Bart. "You're not the lad to leave a mate in the lurch."

"Thrue for ye, me boy; but are we to tak' him back in the boat?"

"Yes, it's the captain's orders."

"Howly Pater, but it's dreadful work!" said Dinny.

"Then let's get it done," said Bart, stolidly; and he drew off the lid of the rough case. "Come, lad, let's lift the poor fellow quickly into his coffin and act like men."

"But didn't ye fale him move, Bart, lad?" whispered Dinny.

"No. What foolery!" growled Bart. "Fancy!"

"Divil a bit, sor! I just touched him," whispered Dinny; "and he worked his toes about, and thin give quite a kick."

"Bah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Bart.

"Bedad, but he did!" whispered Dinny. "Wait a minute. The poor boy don't like it, perhaps. If we only had Father McFadden here!"

"What are you going to do?"

"Shpake to him," said Dinny, trembling; "and the blessed saints stand bechuckst me and harm!" he muttered, fervently. "Abel, me lad--captin, don't ye want to go?"

There was a dead silence.

"Shpake to us, me lad, and say _no_ if you don't; and we'll respect your wishes."

The silence that followed Dinny's address to the dead was broken by an impatient e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n from Bart.

"Come on!" he said. "Do you take me for a fool? Lift, man, or I'll do it myself!"

Thus adjured, Dinny went once more to the foot of the shallow trench, and stooped down.

"Now, then, together!" said Bart. "The dead can't hurt the quick."

Dinny thrust his hands down in the sand on either side of the rolled-up canvas, made as if to lift, and then, as his hands met, he uttered another yell and fell upon his knees.

Bart started away as well, and stood in the dim light, trembling.

"There! Didn't you fale him move?" whispered Dinny, who was shaking violently. "Captin darlin', we were only obeying ordhers. Sure, and we wouldn't disthurb ye for all the world if ye didn't want to come. Don't be angry wid us--it was ordhers, ye know; and av coorse ye know what ordhers is."

"Did--did you feel it too, Dinny?" said Bart, hoa.r.s.ely.

"Did I fale it! Sure, and he worked his toes again, and then give a bigger kick than ever!"

"Dinny," cried Bart, pa.s.sionately, "the poor fellow has been buried alive!"

"Buried aloive!" said Dinny.

"Yes; he has come to. Quick, uncover him!"

"Buried aloive! And it isn't a did man kicking again' being disthurbed in his grave!" cried Dinny, changing his tone and springing up. "Howly Pater! why didn't ye say so before? Here, have him out at wanst!--the poor boy will be smothered wid the sand! Quick, me boy! quick!"

He dashed at the trench again, and Bart seized the head, both lifting together; and then, as the sand streamed away from the canvas cover in which the remains of poor Abel had been wrapped, they both uttered a hoa.r.s.e cry of horror and stood holding up their ghastly burden as if in a nightmare, terror paralysing them. For they felt that the long wrapper was alive; and from out of holes eaten in it, and dimly-seen in the lantern's yellow light, dozens of the loathsome land-crabs scuffled quickly out, to keep falling with a heavy pat upon the sand and crawl away; while as their sh.e.l.ls rattled and scratched and their claws clinked together, the burden grew rapidly lighter, the movement gradually ceased, and the two men stood at last, icily cold, but with the sweat streaming from them, holding up the old sail containing nothing but the skeleton of the poor fellow they sought.

"Oh, murther!" gasped Dinny at last. "Bart, lad, think o' that!"

Bart uttered a sound that was more like a groan than an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n; but neither of them moved for some moments.

"What'll we do now?" said Dinny at last.

Bart did not speak, but he made a movement side wise, which his companion unconsciously imitated, and together they reverently laid the grisly remains in the case, which Bart covered, and then screwed down the lid, for he had come prepared.

"What'll the captain say?" whispered Dinny, as he held the lantern up for Bart to see the holes made ready for the screws.

Bart turned upon him fiercely.

"Don't say a word of it to him," he said harshly. "Poor lad, it would break his heart."

"Not tell him?"

"Dinny, lad, you'll keep your tongue about this night's work?"

"Not tell the boys?"