Oliver and myself had resumed our seats, to await the result of DeNortier's investigation. I glanced down the long tables; the men had taken their seats, but, hardened as they were, the tragedy had cast a gloom over their spirits, and they sat in silence, drinking deeply of the wine, only speaking softly among themselves. Their silence, deep and unbroken, was a strange contrast to the mirth and turmoil that only a few minutes before had rung through the room. There is something in silence that oppresses the mind; we can bear the noise and roar with a good grace, but silence is a quality that strikes dismay within the breast of man. To-night, as I gazed upon these silent men, I felt a thrill of something pass over me--'twas not fear, it was more like dread, that foe I had seldom experienced since I came to man's estate. They were dangerous thus; in the feasting and revelry they had not had time to plot, but now they were silent and had the opportunity. I was now aroused by Oliver, who caught my sleeve. "What is it?" he whispered. "Why have the men grown so silent?" I whispered to him what had happened. "Awful," he murmured, as he covered his face with his hands, "I am glad that I missed the sight." The pirate had spoken not a word since he had taken the papers. Slowly, carefully, he glanced over them one by one, but now he had finished. With an oath, he threw them from the table. "Thou didst speak truth, Sir Thomas," he said. "He is false!--false as hell! And I trusted him, and believed him devoted to me. All the while he played spy upon me, and reported every motion to his master, Lord Dunraven. He shall pay dear for this," he continued, his voice rising, "for I will hang him as high as Haman. "Thou art free," he said, looking at me, "both thou and the lad. We will join forces against my lord, fool that he is to think he could deceive me thus; but I will settle with him, once and for all. Come," he continued, "this is to be thy last night here. Thou art free--free as the wind. To-morrow we will talk of plans to outwit Dunraven, and to punish this dog, the priest--but to-night we will drink. Fill up thy glass, both thou and the lad. Here is confusion to Lord Dunraven, and success to all his foes!" "I drink that toast with a good grace," I said, and I drained the brimming goblet, as did Oliver also. And now the men had resumed their revelry. They had drunk deep, several of them had fallen under the table, and their fellows, flagons in hand, were now roaring out right lustily the chorus of a drinking song. Many of the glasses had been overturned, and the wine ran in little rivulets over the costly covering of the table; but with their faces lit up with mirth, they heeded it not. Their voices rose to a yell that deafened my ears; then died out--they had finished the song.