The colour went from their six faces like enchantment ; some leaped to their feet , some clawed hold of others ; Morgan grovelled on the ground . `` It 's Flint , by -- ! '' cried Merry . The song had stopped as suddenly as it began -- broken off , you would have said , in the middle of a note , as though someone had laid his hand upon the singer 's mouth . Coming through the clear , sunny atmosphere among the green tree-tops , I thought it had sounded airily and sweetly ; and the effect on my companions was the stranger . `` Come , '' said Silver , struggling with his ashen lips to get the word out ; `` this wo n't do . Stand by to go about . This is a rum start , and I ca n't name the voice , but it 's someone skylarking -- someone that 's flesh and blood , and you may lay to that . '' His courage had come back as he spoke , and some of the colour to his face along with it . Already the others had begun to lend an ear to this encouragement and were coming a little to themselves , when the same voice broke out again -- not this time singing , but in a faint distant hail that echoed yet fainter among the clefts of the Spy-glass . `` Darby M'Graw , '' it wailed -- for that is the word that best describes the sound -- `` Darby M'Graw ! Darby M'Graw ! '' again and again and again ; and then rising a little higher , and with an oath that I leave out : `` Fetch aft the rum , Darby ! '' The buccaneers remained rooted to the ground , their eyes starting from their heads . Long after the voice had died away they still stared in silence , dreadfully , before them . `` That fixes it ! '' gasped one . `` Let 's go . '' `` They was his last words , '' moaned Morgan , `` his last words above board . '' Dick had his Bible out and was praying volubly .
He had been well brought up , had XXXXX , before he came to sea and fell among bad companions .
Darby Dick Flint M'Graw Morgan Silver Spy-glass colour fixes tree-tops