There were several little stones over
Twifords that had died early, and a large heap of sand, planted with
some flowers, that might have covered a favorite horse, but which
Phoebus believed was the resting-place of the river buccaneer; and
there was also a vault of brick and plaster, with the little door ajar,
where prurient visitors, themselves with Saul's own selfish curiosity to
raise the dead, had poked and peeped about until the coffin lids had
been drawn back and the dead pair exposed to the dry peninsular air.
The bay captain looked in and beheld his predecessor, Captain Twiford,
who also sailed the bay, lying in his shroud--not in full clothing, as
men are buried now, for clothing was too valuable in the scanty-peopled
country to feed it to the worms. Twiford lay shrivelled up, shroud and
flesh making but one skin, the face of a walnut color, the hair
complete, the teeth sound, and severe dignity unrelaxed by the exposure
he was condemned to for his evil alliance with Betty Hanley.
She also lay exposed, who had lived so shamelessly, respecting not the
mould of beauty God had given her, till now men leered to look upon her
nearly kiln-dried bosom glued into its winding-sheet, and the glory of
her hair, that had been handled by bantering outlaws, and in a rippling
wave of unbleached coal covered the grinning coquetry of her skull.
"Them that mocks God shall be mocked of him," said Jimmy Phoebus,
closing the door and putting some of the scattered bricks of the vault
against it.
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