The old negro made no reply, but shaped his course so as to skirt the rocky shores of Gibbet Island. A faint creaking overhead caused Vanderscamp to cast up his eyes, when, to his horror, he beheld the bodies of his three pot companions and brothers in iniquity, dangling in the moonlight, their rags fluttering, and their chains creaking, as they were slowly swung backward and forward by the rising breeze. "What do you mean, you blockhead," cried Vanderscamp, "by pulling so close to the island? "

On the Jersey Shore 71

" I tliought you 'd be glad to see your old friends once more, " growled the negro; ' ' you were never afraid of a living man, what do vou fear from the dead? " "Who 's afraid?" hiccupped Vanderscamp, partly heated by liquor, partly nettled by the jeer of the negro; "who 's afraid? Hang me, but I would be glad to see them once more, alive or dead, at the Wild Goose. Come, my lads in the wind," continued he, taking a draught, and flourishing the bottle above his head, " here 's fair weather to you in the other world; and if vou should be walking the rounds to-night, odds fish, but I '11 be happy if you will drop in to supper. The storm burst over the voyagers, while they were yet far from shore. The rain fell in torrents, the thunder crashed and pealed, and the lightning kept up an incessant blaze. It was stark midnight before they landed at Communipaw. Dripping and shivering, Vanderscamp crawled homeward. He was completely sobered by the storm; the water soaked from without having diluted and cooled the liquor within. Arrived at the Wild Goose, he knocked timidly and dubiously at the door, for he dreaded the reception he was to experience from his wife.