There was no confusion: bale, keg, barrel, and box were carried in by the men in perfect silence, till the last load of the horses had been deposited, when Wat Kilby growled out an order, and four men put their shoulders to a huge mass of stone, which they rolled over twice, when it blocked up the low entrance to the cave; a few branches were carefully dragged back to lie athwart it, and the party once more set off as silently as they had come, but this time with the captain in front and Wat Kilby at his side. "You will have plenty of time on your hands for the next month," said the former; "you had better keep an eye on that fellow, Abel Churr. I have been thinking which would be best: to catch and threaten him--" "That's one way," said Wat. "To bribe--" "Two ways." "Or to take no notice." "Three ways." "If he gets in, which he could not do without help, he would only take a few odds and ends that we should never miss. The awkwardness would be another party knowing anything about the store when we are away. One might come back from a voyage to find the whole place wrecked." "What do you say to shutting him up for a month to bring him to his senses?" "Would not do," said Gil, as they trudged on through the forest. "Take him off with us to sea?" "No, I would not do that." "Hang him, then, out of the way," growled Wat. "I'll bury him after, for he don't deserve such a Christian burial as dropping over the side with a shot at his heels, to be standing up at the bottom of the sea ready to rise again." No more was said, and the strange, weird-looking train passed silently on through the forest till the cultivated land was neared, when, without a word, the strength of the party seemed to gradually diminish, a team of horses dropping behind here, a pair there, a single horse further on, till at last horses and men had all disappeared, and Wat and the captain stood together in a moist-smelling glade, with the early morning air coming in gentle puffs, sometimes salt from the sea, with the faint, peculiar odour of decaying seaweed, sometimes sweetly-scented with the hay which farmers here and there were making for their winter store. "Let Abel Churr rest," said the captain quietly. "I may find means of quieting his tongue." "I'd like to do it myself," growled Wat, as they separated, but only for the latter to be called back. "Have you been hanging about the Pool-house lately, Wat?" The great fellow shuffled about, and rubbed one ear. "You need not answer," said Gil, quietly, and he walked away. Volume 1, Chapter XIV. HOW MOTHER GOODHUGH CURSED ABEL CHURR.