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Rh and queens, and knaves, of Spanish Dick s cards, stepped out of their stiff frames, and in full regalia tried her in high court for trepass [sic] on the fairy isle. Condemned, she was delivered to a swarthy crew of bearded pirates, with huge rings in their noses, and cutlasses between their teeth, and carried up the side of the mountain.

In its crater boiled a gigantic cauldron, tended by jibbering skeletons who pointed their grisly forefingers at her, their wide death's-head mouths grinning horribly. The buzzard swooped down from a black sky and stood before her. It grew and grew till its fiery eyes were as big as cart-wheels, and it was as tall as the mast of a ship.

She looked for the North Star. It was sailing away! She called, but she could not utter a single word. Even at the great distance she could see Ben at the wheel, with his face turned towards her. He shook his head mournfully. Again she tried to shriek, but could not. And suddenly the mountain became alive and spat showers of burning coals, then an avalanche of fire. She was buried, but somehow the coals did not burn her body at all. She laughed aloud in relief—then again tried to scream for help, for the coals were choking her—suffocating her.

She awoke. It must have been somewhere about midnight. She wanted to call Ben, but was ashamed of her fear.

She shook off the spell of the evil dream, and looked out of the door of the hut, through the break in the grove. The waters were calm and untroubled. A bright moon-path led to the horizon. She rubbed her eyes for down it, between the Capes of the Twin Horns, came sailing, a slender craft,