With muffled oars, and long steady strokes, we pulled away over the star-begemmed waters for the long low vessel, which with her clear-cut spars and rigging, and somewhat rakish appearance, more nearly resembled a pirate than a peaceful merchantman.
All seemed silent as death. Not a voice broke the stillness that reigned fore-and-aft. The crew were apparently wrapped in slumber.
The first cutter hooked on at the vessel’s starboard gangway, whilst we made fast to port, and quickly scrambled on board. The deck was deserted, and a deathlike stillness reigned throughout the ship.
I met Mr. Thompson and his party at the main-hatchway, and we proceeded to light some dark lanterns we had brought with us, and get our revolvers ready for use.
“Mr. Osborne has sprained his ankle in getting out of the boat,” whispered the gunnery lieutenant, “and he is in such pain that we left him in the cutter in charge of the bowmen. We can manage all right without him. Have you got the handcuffs ready, Mr. Giles?”
“All right, sir,” replied that officer in the same undertone, and he held up to view the instruments in question, and chuckled audibly.
“Now, men, keep perfect silence,” continued Mr. Thompson, “and we’ll surprise these fellows in their berths, and bundle them into the boats before they can say ‘Jack Robinson.’ Follow me down the main hatchway, and in the first place we’ll overhaul the cabins, for it’s there the rascals are sleeping, I expect.”
With cautious and stealthy steps—having divested ourselves of our shoes—we followed our leader below. At this moment we almost betrayed ourselves through a clumsy marine knocking his head against the ship’s bell, which hung at the foot of the ladder, and gave out a metallic ring that could have been distinctly heard by any wakeful person on the main-deck or in the cabins.
“Confound that bullet-headed lobster!” whispered Mr. Thompson fiercely. “I’ll crack his skull in earnest for him if he doesn’t look out.”
The man, who had overheard this remark, and was ruefully rubbing his head, slunk to the rear, and sheltered himself behind the stalwart form of the master-at-arms.