I went down on my knees at once. On the floor close to his hand there was a little round of paper, blackened on one side. I could not doubt that this was the black spot ; and, taking it up, I found written on the other side, in a very good, clear hand, this short message, “You have till ten tonight.”

“He had till ten, mother,” said I; and, just as I said it, our old clock began striking. This sudden noise startled us shockingly; but the news was good, for it was only six.

“Now, Jim,” she said, “that key!”

I felt in his pockets, one after another. A few small coins, a thimble, and some thread and big needles, a piece of pigtail tobacco bitten away at the end, his gully with the crooked handle, a pocket compass, and a tinderbox, were all that they contained, and I began to despair.

“Perhaps it’s round his neck,” suggested my mother.