Commodore Junk — page 162: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE GIBBET SPIT. 155 inland suddenly, they had taken about twenty steps to the west when a vivid flash of lightning showed them that their calculations had been exact, for there before them in all its horror, and not a dozen yards away, stood the rough gibbet with the body of a man pendent from the cross-beam, the ghastly object having stood out for a moment like a huge cameo cut in bold relief upon some mass of marble of a solid black. “ Abel! Brother!” moaned Jack, running forward to sink kneeling in the sand, and for a few moments, as Bart stood there in the black darkness with his head instinctively uncovered, there arose from before him the wild hysterical sobbings of a woman, at first in piteous appeal to the dead, then in fierce denunciation of his murderers; but as the last cry rang out there was a flickering in the sky, as if the avant garde of another vivid flash—the half-blinding sheet of flame which lit up the gibbet once again; and it seemed strange to Bart that no woman was there, only the figure of a short, well- built man, who stood looking toward him, and said in a hoarse, firm voice— | “We are not likely to be interrupted; but to work, quick !” “Right !” said Bart, hoarsely ; and directly after, a rust- ling sound, accompanied by a heavy breathing, was heard in the black darkness, followed soon after by the clinking of iron against iron. There was a faint flicker in the sky again, but no following flash, and the darkness seemed to have grown more intense, as the panting of some one engaged in a work requiring great exertion came from high up out of the ebon darkness. ‘The file, man, the file.” “Nay, Pll wrench it off,” came from where the panting was heard. Then there was more grating of iron against iron, CONnnicloOol<s a)