The window was open, and by the light of the moon that shone in, we saw the rascal standing on a chair, leaning out of the window, evidently just ready to escape. Fortunately, we were unheard.
“Let's pull him in,” whispered the boarder.
“No,” I whispered in reply. “We don't want him in. Let's hoist him out.”
“All right,” returned the boarder.
We laid our pistols on the floor, and softly approached the window. Being barefooted, out steps were noiseless.
“Hoist when I count three,” breathed the boarder into my ear.
We reached the chair. Each of us took hold of two of its legs.
“One—two—three!” said the boarder, and together we gave a tremendous lift and shot the wretch out of the window.
The tide was high, and there was a good deal of water around the boat. We heard a rousing splash outside.
Now there was no need of silence.