CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. He was holding the ring to the light, and narrowly examining the inscription. “I’ll have to pay it. He must be gone to dispose of the body. That's a queer yarn. But I know very well that that word will never be spoken. "Ha!" he exclaimed, with a sudden start, as his glance fell upon the portrait; "how came this into your possession, boy?" "Why don't you answer, sirrah?" cried Wild, in a savage tone, and striking him with the silver staff. The benches running round the room, though fastened to the walls by iron clamps, had been forcibly wrenched off; while the table, which was similarly secured to the boards, was upset, and its contents—bottles, jugs, glasses, and bowls were broken and scattered about in all directions. "Mother!" cried Jack, springing towards her. "Good bye, Jack! Keep up your spirits.
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