He now thought of getting back to his boat,
and making his escape out of the reach of such dangerous neighbors;
but curiosity was all-powerful. He hesitated, and lingered, and
listened. By and by he heard the strokes of spades. "They are
digging the grave!" said he to himself, and the cold sweat started
upon his forehead. Every stroke of a spade, as it sounded through
the silent groves, went to his heart. It was evident there was as
little noise made as possible; everything had an air of terrible
mystery and secrecy. Sam had a great relish for the horrible; a
tale of murder was a treat for him, and he was a constant attendant
at executions. He could not resist an impulse, in spite of every
danger, to steal nearer to the scene of mystery, and overlook the
midnight fellows at their work. He crawled along cautiously,
therefore, inch by inch, stepping with the utmost care among the
dry leaves, lest their rustling should betray him. He came at
length to where a steep rock intervened between him and the gang,
for he saw the light of their lantern shining up against the
branches of the trees on the other side.
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