came to anchor at night, in the lower bay ; and, on a private signal, Vanderscamp would launch his boat, and, accompanied solely by his man Pluto, would make them mysterious visits. Sometimes boats pulled in at night, in front of the Wild Goose, and various articles of merchandise were landed in the dark, and spirited away, nobody knew whither. One of the more curious of the inhabitants kept watch, and caught a glimpse of the features of some of these night visitors, by the casual glance of a lantern, and declared that he recognized more than one of the freebooting frequenters of the Wild Goose, in former times; from whence he concluded that Vanderscamp was at his old game, and that this mysterious merchandise was nothing more nor less than piratical plunder. The more charitable opinion, however, was, that Vanderscamp and his comrades, having been driven from their old line of business, by the "oppressions of government," had resorted to smuggling to make both ends meet. . . It happened late one night, that Yan Yost Vanderscamp was returning across the broad bay, in his light skiff, rowed by his man Pluto. He had been carousing on board of a vessel, newly arrived, and was somewhat obfuscated in intellect, by the liquid he had imbibed. It was a still, sultry night; a heavy mass of lurid clouds was rising in the west, with the low muttering of distant thunder. Vanderscamp called on Pluto to pull lustily, that they might get home before the gathering storm. The old negro made no reply, but shaped his course so as to skirt the rocky shores of Gibbet Island. A faint creaking overhead caused Vanderscamp to cast up his eyes, when, to his horror, he beheld the bodies of his three pot companions and brothers in iniquity, dangling in the moonlight, their rags fluttering, and their chains creaking, as they were slowly swung backward and forward by the rising breeze. "What do you mean, you blockhead," cried Vanderscamp, "by pulling so close to the island? " Digitized by Microsoft® On the Jersey Shore 71 "I thought you 'd be glad to see your old friends once more, " growled the negro ; ' ' you were never afraid of a living man, what do you fear from the dead? " "Who 's afraid?" hiccupped Vanderscamp, partly heated by liquor, partly nettled by the jeer of the negro; "who 's afraid? Hang me, but I would be glad to see them once more, alive or dead, at the Wild Goose. Come, my lads in the wind," con- tinued he, taking a draught, and flourishing the bottle above his head, " here 's fair weather to you in the other world; and if you should be walking the rounds to-night, odds fish, but I '11 be happy if you will drop in to supper." The storm burst over the voyagers, while they were yet far from shore. The rain fell in torrents, the thunder crashed and pealed, and the lightning kept up an incessant blaze. It was stark midnight before they landed at Communipaw. Dripping and shivering, Vanderscamp crawled homeward. He was completely sobered by the storm; the water soaked from without having diluted and cooled the liquor within. Ar- rived at the Wild Goose, he knocked timidly and dubiously at the door, for he dreaded the reception he was to experience from his wife. He had reason to do so. She met him at the threshold, in a precious ill-humour. "Is this a time," said she, "to keep people out of their beds, and to bring home company, to turn the house upside down? " "Company?" said Vanderscamp meekly, "I have brought no company with me, wife." "No, indeed! they have got here before you, but by your in- vitation; and a blessed looking company they are, truly." Vanderscamp's knees smote together. "For the love of Heaven, where are they, wife? ' ' " Where? — why in the blue room, up stairs, making themselves as much at home as if the house were their own.' ' Vanderscamp made a desperate effort, scrambled up to the room, and threw open the door. Sure enough, there at a table on which burned a light as blue as brimstone, sat the three guests from Gibbet Island, with halters round their necks, and bobbing their cups together, as if they were hobnobbing, and trolling the old Dutch freebooter's glee, since translated into English; Digitized by Microsoft® 72 The Hudson River For three merry lads be we, And three merry lads be we; I on the land, and thou on the sand, And Jack on the gallows tree. Vanderscamp saw and heard no more. Starting back with horror, he missed his footing on the landing-place, and fell from