We made an excellent run, and at noon on June 30 I found by a good observation that we were probably about forty miles to the southward of the island we were seeking; and as we were then making about seven knots an hour, I felt sure we should sight the land before night. The excitement of the chase and the preparation for a possible fight had thus far kept me up, but now that I was so soon to know the result of this attempt I was making to recover the property of my owners, and should either reinstate myself in their good opinion or return to Boston a ruined man, I acknowledge for the first time my courage almost failed me.

What if, after all, I should be on the wrong track! This fellow might have deceived me, or, in his turn, might have been deceived by that craftier villain, my former mate! However, I should soon know the worst—or the best!

By three o’clock we raised the land bearing N. 31° W., a cluster of low, flat, woody islands. By four o’clock a large, high island bore N. 18° W., its outline forming a hollow like a saddle. It appeared to be surrounded with smaller islands on the south and west sides. At the same time an extensive reef was observed stretching to the southward.

I decided to haul to windward of the south-eastern islet then in sight, and, by Charlie’s advice, to pass between it and the next island to the northwest, which he recognized, and where the channel was to all appearances, perfectly clear and about four or five miles wide.

At 6 P. M. I anchored in six fathoms of water about two miles from the land, as I did not dare to run in the midst of these reefs at night. As soon as the men had eaten their supper, I ordered three boats cleared away and armed, and with muffled oars we all started from the schooner, my boat, with Charlie as pilot, ahead.

The moon did not rise until late, but there was sufficient light for us to make our way, and, after four hours’ steady work at the oars, we gained the entrance to a little land-locked bay at the head of the channel between the two easternmost islands.

Here we laid on our oars until about three o’clock in the morning, and then pulled in shore. As we opened up the entrance to the bay I almost set up a shout of joy; for there, swinging quietly at her anchor, a cable’s length from shore, was my old ship!

I gathered my three boats together and asked my men if they would stand by me in an attempt to board the ship. They assured me of their readiness, and seemed to look upon the whole affair as a good joke.

I warned them not to fire a shot until we were fairly on board, and then to trust mainly to their cutlasses; for I felt sure we could surprise the ship at this early hour when the crew would be in their deepest sleep, and I knew if we once succeeded in getting on board, we could carry her.

I divided the boats, giving them orders to pull one for the bow, one for the starboard quarter, while I would board on the port side amidships, thus taking them in flank if there should be any resistance. We then pulled quietly into the little bay, and as the tide was running flood, quickly approached the ship. As I had anticipated, there was no lookout kept, as they evidently fancied themselves entirely safe from an attack by sea and the island was uninhabited.