"What's that?" exclaimed one of the watch, suddenly interrupting the story he was relating to his companion.
"I didn't hear any thing," replied the other.
"Well, I imagined I did. Every dark night that I stand watch, I think of the Crusoe band."
"O, they're a hundred miles from here by this time—perhaps more. Go on with your yarn."
The young sailor listened a moment, but as the sound which had attracted his attention was not repeated, he resumed his story; whereupon, the
figure at the hatchway arose to his feet, and stealthily descended the ladder. He was gone about five minutes, and then re-appeared, crawled noiselessly across the deck, and had just placed his hands upon the rail, when he was discovered by one of the watch.
"Hallo! Boat—ship—I mean, man—ahoy!" shouted the young tar, evidently at a loss to determine how he ought to hail a stranger found on deck of his vessel, under such circumstances.
Both the watch made a rush for the mysterious visitor, who disappeared over the rail like a flash; and, by the time they reached the side, he was in his boat, which was moving off into the darkness. But he did not get away in time to escape recognition by the watch, both of whom stood for an instant as if petrified, and then called out, in amazement and alarm,
"Tom Newcombe!"
"Where?" exclaimed Jackson, the officer of the deck, hurrying forward.