Commodore Junk — page 272: what you’re looking at

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

THE ASSASSINS. 265 nightmare, during which he suffered, but could do nothing to free himself, The wretch’s shrieks were growing fainter, and he clung in an inert way now, while someone seemed to be muttering above— ‘ T can do nothing more—I can do nothing more!” but the grip about Humphrey’s wrists tightened, and two arms rested upon his hands and seemed to press them closer to the stones to which they clung. “ Captain—captain! Are you there?” ‘‘'Yes,” came from close to Humphrey’s face. “Forgive me, skipper, and help me up! I'll be faithful to you! [ll kill Black Mazzard !” *T can do nothing,” said the buccaneer, hoarsely. ‘* You are beyond my reach.” “Then go and fetch the lads and a rope. Don’t let me fall into this cursed, watery hell!” “Tf I quit my hold here, man, you will both go down ; un- less help comes, nothing can be done.” “Then, call help! Call help now, captain, and I'll be your slave! Curse him for leaving me here! Where’s Joe Thorpe?” ‘He was killed by Mazzard with a blow meant for me,’ said the buccaneer, slowly. “Curse him! Curse him!” shrieked the man. “Oh, captain, save me, and I'll kill him for you! He wants to be skipper ; and I'll kill him for you if you'll only—Ah !” He uttered a despairing shriek, for as he spoke a sharp, tearing sound was heard ; the cloth he clung to gave way, and before he could get a fresh hold he was hanging suspended by the half-torn-off garb. He swung to and fro as he uttered one ery, and then there was an awful silence, followed by a plunge far below. The water seemed to hiss and whisper and echo in all Gomiilcbooks