And after kindly pressing the old sailor's hand, he went down to the boat, seated himself in the sternsheets by the side of the hunter, took up the yoke lines, and said, in a low voice, "Push, off!"
At this command the painter was cast off, the oars dashed together into the sea, and the boat started. When it had disappeared in the fog, Master Lovel ran at full speed to the stern of the brig, and leaned over the taffrail. "Are you there?" he said.
"Yes," a suppressed voice answered him.
"Get ready," the Master added, and then said to an old sailor, who had followed him: "You know what I recommended to you, Wells," he said; "I reckon on you, and intrust the lookout to you."
"All right, Master," the sailor answered, "you can cut your cable without fear, I will keep a bright lookout."
"All right; get in, men, and double-bank the oars."
Some forty sailors, who were well armed, like their predecessors, let themselves down, one after the other, by a rope that hung over the taffrail, and got into a second boat, which Master Lovel had ordered to be quietly got ready, and of which he took the command. He started at once, and steered after the Captain's pinnace, whose direction he was pretty well acquainted with, saying every now and then to the rowers, in order to increase their speed, "Give way, my lads, give way, all!" and he added, as he chewed his enormous quid, with a cunning smile, "It was very likely I should let my old fellow have his face scored by those brigands of Mexicans, who are all as crafty as caimans."
So soon as he had left the ship, the Captain, leaving on his right hand a small fishing village, whose lights he saw flashing through the darkness, steered for a jutting-out point, where he probably hoped to disembark in safety. After rowing for about three-quarters of an hour, a black line began to be vaguely designed on the horizon in front of the boat. The Captain gave his men a sign to rest on their oars for a moment, and taking up a long night glass, he carefully examined the coast. In two or three minutes he shut up the glass again, and ordered his men to give way.
All at once the keel of the pinnace grated on the sand: they had reached land. After hurriedly exploring the neighbourhood, the crew leaped ashore, leaving only one man as boat keeper, who at once pushed off, so as not to be captured by the enemy. All was calm, and a solemn silence reigned on the coast, which was apparently deserted. The Captain having assured himself that, for the present, at any rate, he had nothing to fear, concealed his men behind some rocks, and then addressed Tranquil.
"It is now your turn, old hunter," he said.