Again and again
he pressed himself against the sheriff's knees. He knew that he was
understood, and yet there came no answer. At last he looked up, and
Jeekum's face was far above him, staring straight and unseeing into the
darkness ahead. His last spark of hope went out.
After a time a dark rim loomed slowly up out of the sea. It was land,
half a mile or so away. Nathaniel sat up with fresh interest, and as
they drew nearer Jeekum rose to his feet and gazed long and steadily in
both directions along the coast. When he returned to his seat the boat's
course was changed. A few minutes later the bow grated upon sand. Still
voiceless as specters the guards leaped ashore and Neil roused himself
to follow them, climbing over the gunwale like a sick man. Nathaniel was
close at his heels. With a growing sense of horror he saw two ghostly
stakes thrusting themselves out of the beach a dozen paces away. He
looked beyond them. As far as he could see there was sand--nothing but
sand, as white as paper, scintillating in a billion flashing
needle-points in the starlight. Instinctively he guessed what the stakes
were for, and walked toward them with the blood turning cold in his
veins. Neil was before him and stopped at the first stake, making no
effort to lift his eyes as Nathaniel strode past him. At the second, a
dozen feet beyond, Nathaniel's two guards halted, and placed him with
his back to the post. Two minutes later, bound hand and foot to the
stake, he shifted his head so that he could look at his companion.
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