Tales of Northumbria Part 19

'It was ane o' thae tempestuous October nights, wi' half a gale blowin', an' clouds gallopin', wi' flittin's o' moonlight like jockeys ridin' 'em; an' when they came nigh to the graveside, an' saw a dark, misshapen sort o' a figure plyin' an axe vigorously, an' heard a thud, thud, same as ye may when pa.s.sin' by a butcher's shop any day, why, they turned tail and fled, the most o' them stumblin' this way an'

that amangst the headstones.

'Two o' them, though, was a bit bolder, an' pressed on up to the graveside, whereupon the little black demon figure thuds doon his axe wi' a sickenin' sound, then dives awa into the darkness, screechin'

oot: "Chilpo, Chilpo! he makee sicker, he makee sicker!" and therewith vanished frae Bocca Chica.

'As for the doubloon,' concluded Jake, spinning it into the air as he spoke, 'it was found amangst some leavin's o' Chilpo's at his lodgin's, an' sold wi' some other trinkets to pay some small debts he had left behind him.

'My aunt bought it up as a memento o' the marcifu' preservation she had had frae marryin' wi' a buccaneer; an' when I said good-bye to her on startin' for India, she presented it to me, wi' an admonition ne'er to have any traffic wi' dwarfs or pirates.'

THE END