Now when I saw that, I felt a sort of throttling fright, as though one
had caught hold of my heartstrings; and so many and such strange thoughts
rose in me, that the blood went pounding round and round in my head, as
it did once afterwards when I was fighting with the sea and near drowned.
Surely to have in hand the beard of any dead man in any place was bad
enough, but worse a thousand times in such a place as this, and to know
on whose face it had grown. For, almost before I fully saw what it was, I
knew it was that black beard which had given Colonel John Mohune his
nickname, and this was his great coffin I had hid behind.
I had lain, therefore, all that time, cheek by jowl with Blackbeard
himself, with only a thin shell of tinder wood to keep him from me, and
now had thrust my hand into his coffin and plucked away his beard. So
that if ever wicked men have power to show themselves after death, and
still to work evil, one would guess that he would show himself now and
fall upon me. Thus a sick dread got hold of me, and had I been a woman
or a girl I think I should have swooned; but being only a boy, and not
knowing how to swoon, did the next best thing, which was to put myself as
far as might be from the beard, and make for the outlet. Yet had I scarce
set foot in the passage when I stopped, remembering how once already this
same evening I had played the coward, and run home scared with my own
fears. So I was brought up for very shame, and beside that thought how I
had come to this place to look for Blackbeard's treasure, and might have
gone away without knowing even so much as where he lay, had not chance
first led me to be down by his side, and afterwards placed my hand upon
his beard. And surely this could not be chance alone, but must rather be
the finger of Providence guiding me to that which I desired to find. This
consideration somewhat restored my courage, and after several feints to
return, advances, stoppings, and panics, I was in the vault again,
walking carefully round the stack of barrels, and fearing to see the
glimmer of the candle fall upon that beard. There it was upon the sand,
and holding the candle nearer to it with a certain caution, as though it
would spring up and bite me, I saw it was a great full black beard, more
than a foot long, but going grey at the tips; and had at the back,
keeping it together, a thin tissue of dried skin, like the false parting
which Aunt Jane wore under her cap on Sundays. This I could see as it lay
before me, for I did not handle or lift it, but only peered into it, with
the candle, on all sides, busying myself the while with thoughts of the
man of whom it had once been part.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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