The boy made no reply, listening, listening.
Had he made a mistake?—was it only the swish of waters under the keel? … No!
"There! there, in front!"
This time there was no mistaking it—the noise of a boat's bow smashing into seas.
Reuben brought his fist down with a thump.
"To the tick!"
Just then the cloud-drift parted. Through tatters of mist the moon shone down.
II
Bowling out on the top of the tide came a lugger, the foam at her foot.
She was black in the moon, and barely a cable's length away.