The fictional exploits of buccaneering men had lost their magic for him. Besides, there were other pirates on view in Tilbury that spring.One, unredeemed by any amnesty, hung from the gibbet at Tilbury Point, tugged at by a brisk breeze off the river. His body had been bound in chains, daubed with tar and encased in a cage, denied Christian burial as a warning to the living of the hideousness of death.It did not have quite that effect on Nathan. "It's Easter," he said to Hardcastle."A week since," said Hardcastle."When they went to the tomb to rewrap Christ's body . . ."Harcastle threw Toby in the air and caught him repeatedly, making the child laugh and laugh.". . . except that it had gone . . ." said Nathan."Raised to glory," agreed Harcastle, rubbing noses with the baby.". . . out into the garden."Suddenly it seemed to him that the tarry skull of the pirate on the gibbet might not be shouting a warning after all -- that his decaying corpse might no longer be suffering the torments of the gibbet as his executioners like to suggest with cage and chain and padlock. There were amnesties other than the King's.The man might simply be singing: singing and dancing in the bright, brittle Easter sunshine, held up in midair not by chains but by invisible hands or on invisible shoulders.