On the ground, to
one side of them, lay something long and wrapped in white.
As they dug and cursed, the light strengthened. The east changed
from gray to pale rose, from rose to a splendid crimson shot with
gold. The mist lifted and the sea burned red. Two boats were
lowered from the ship, and came swiftly toward the point.
"Here they are at last," growled the gravedigger with the broken
head and velvet breeches.
"They've taken their time," snarled his companion, "and us two
here on this d-d island with a dead man the whole ghost's hour.
Boarding a ship's nothing, but to dig a grave on the land before
cockcrow, with the man you're to put in it looking at you! Why
could n't he be buried at sea, decent and respectable, like other
folk?"
"It was his will, - that's all I know," said the first; "just as it was his
will, when he found he was a dying man, to come booming away
from the gold seas up here to a land where there is n't no gold, and
never will be. Belike he thought he'd find waiting for him at the
bottom of the sea, all along from the Lucayas to Cartagena, the
many he sent there afore he died. And Captain Paradise, he says,
says he: 'It's ill crossing a dead man. We'll obey him this once
more' " -
"Captain Paradise!" cried he of the ruff. "Who made him captain? -
curse him!"
His fellow straightened himself with a jerk.
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