"Why can't you let me loose, Sam?" asked the fisher-boy. "I don't like to go out in this storm with my hands and feet tied. Suppose the yawl should be capsized, what would become of me?"
"Now, don't you be uneasy," replied the governor. "We'll take care of you, an' so long as you behave yourself, like a man had oughter do, we'll see that nothin' don't harm you. Pick him up and take him out, lads."
In spite of his remonstrances, Friday and Jack Spaniard took Bob up in their arms, carried him out of the cave, and laid him away in the yawl, under the thwarts, as if he had been a log of wood. He was far from being satisfied with the chief's assurance that he would take care of him. He knew that Sam was a skillful boatman, but the storm was still raging violently, and in the confusion occasioned by boarding the yawl, some accident might happen. However, there was no help for it. He was securely bound, and all he could do was to commend himself to his usual good luck, and abide the issue.
As soon as he had been disposed of, the band took their places in the yawl, and the governor once more went into the cave, to make sure that nothing was left behind. Then, after carefully closing the door, he sprang into the yawl, and shoved off into the darkness. They went the entire length of the harbor, and through all the shipping that lay at the wharves, without accident, and finally, a flash of lightning revealed to them the Storm King, riding at her anchorage, in the rear of the academy grounds, which here extended down to the water's edge.
"Give way strong," commanded the chief, in an excited voice. "Friday, you be ready to jump out with that painter the minute we stop. Bobby Jennings, one word out of you, an' you go overboard. Remember, lads, one quick rush, an' she's our'n. Stick together, an' don't be afraid to punch the first one that shows fight."
The crew bent to their oars with a will, and the yawl skimmed over the waves like a duck. The governor, who was at the helm, kept the boat headed up the harbor until he passed the yacht, when he rounded to under her stern, and ran up alongside of her, without being hailed.
"Way enough," whispered the chief. The oars were taken in and laid upon the thwarts. Friday sprang up with the painter in one hand, and the boat-hook in the other. The governor stood in the stern-sheets, holding his lantern under his coat, and directing the yawl's course through the darkness, while the rest of the crew caught up their spears and awaited the further commands of their leader. The yawl continued to approach the vessel, and presently she was lifted on the crest of a wave, at the same instant that a flash of lightning showed the Crusoe band that the sloop's deck was deserted, with the exception of a solitary sentinel, who, wrapped up in his overcoat, stood sheltering himself behind the mast.
The next moment, in spite of all the governor's efforts to prevent it, the yawl was dashed against the side of the vessel with a shock that would have aroused all the students on board of her, if they had not been the very soundest of sleepers.
"Boat ahoy!" shouted the sentinel, running to the side, and looking down into the darkness. "By gracious? corporal of the guard!" he added, in a louder tone, as another flash of lightning revealed the yawl and her crew. "Better keep off, if you don't want to get into trouble. Corporal of the guard!"
"Tumble up lively, lads," exclaimed the governor, and, suiting the action to the word, he sprang upon the deck of the Storm King, only to be met by a savage thrust from the bayonet of the guard, who manfully stood his ground, and shouted for the corporal. Fortunately for the chief, his man Friday was close at hand. He had made the yawl's painter fast, and charged upon the sentinel with his boat-hook, just in time to prevent him from doing the governor a serious injury.