However, there _might_ still be a chance that they were alive; and not to leave a stone unturned, he resolved, now that he knew Barbe Rouge was in the hole, to go round the house and gently tap at each window, to endeavour to obtain a response from those he was in quest of. This idea he carried into effect, but without receiving any reply to his tapping, and he again went to the mound and peeped over--Barbe Rouge was still busy, as his shadow, bobbing about in the uncertain light of the horn lantern, proved. Could it be possible that the skipper had left the door of the house unlocked? He would see at all events, and back to the house he went. Upon pressing the handle, to his great joy the door swung back, and he quietly entered. For fear of being discovered, should Barbe Rouge enter the doorway, he leaned a stick, which he found in the passage, against the door on the inside, so that any one entering from without could not fail to knock it down with a clatter upon the stone floor, and thus give him warning. Carefully he searched each of the five rooms which the house contained, breathing ever and anon the names of Mary and Retté, but when he came to the last room, and found it empty, his feelings overcame him, and, but for some wine which he discovered on a table, he would certainly have fainted with horror, thinking that his Mary and her companion had been cruelly murdered, and were now being buried by his captain, the dreadful Barbe Rouge. More wine; and then he gradually grew into a frenzy, swearing that but one task remained, which ere he left Jethou should be accomplished. This was to revenge the deaths of Mary and Retté by killing the monster who was now sitting in the pit, which in another minute should be his tomb. Burning with rage, so that he shook in every limb, he had difficulty in calming his feelings sufficiently to accomplish his task in an unfailing manner. He paused to calm his quivering nerves, and then went gently along the passage, pistol in hand, to where he had left the broom-stick at the door. It remained as he had left it; so he quietly leaned it against the wall, and nervously began to open the door, for fear the giant’s form might be about to enter. Inch by inch it opened and he peeped out. All was quiet. With his pistol still grasped tightly he made for the mound, intending to shoot Barbe Rouge in his self-made grave, but before reaching the spot, he fell prone over a large piece of granite rock; he lay perfectly still, for fear Barbe Rouge should peep out of his hole to see what had caused the noise. [Illustration: “Suddenly a heavy hand seized him from behind.”--_p. 121._] For some minutes he lay silent but alert; then, as the skipper did not appear, he arose, returned his flintlock to his belt, and picked up the huge stone at his feet. This he resolved should be the instrument of Barbe Rouge’s death--a stone for a dog--reserve the bullet for a nobler foe!