The harder Eugene tried to make himself understood, the louder the sailors laughed. At first he thought they would not answer his questions, merely because they wished to tantalize him; but being satisfied at last that they could not comprehend a word he said, he pushed them roughly aside, and springing upon the wharf, hurried off, followed by a fresh burst of laughter and loud cries of “Sheep ahoy!”
“I don’t see any sense in making game of a fellow that way, even if you can’t understand him,” thought Eugene, more angry than ever. “I hope the rebels may capture the last one of you, and shut you up for awhile.”
Eugene did not know where he was going or what he intended to do. Indeed, he did not give the matter a moment’s thought. All he cared for just then was to get out of hearing of the laughter of the brig’s crew, and to find some quiet spot where he could sit down by himself, and take time to recover from the bewilderment occasioned by the events of the last quarter of an hour. With this object in view, he hurried along the wharf, out of the gate, and up the street leading to the top of the hill. At the same moment Walter and Perk were walking slowly up the other side. It was now nearly sunset. For four long hours the young captain and his companion had run about the village in every direction, looking for Fred Craven, and now, almost tired out, and utterly discouraged, they were slowly retracing their steps toward the wharf. They met Eugene at the top of the hill, and the moment their eyes rested on him, they knew he had some unwelcome news to communicate, although they little thought it as bad as it was.
“O, fellows!” exclaimed Eugene, as soon as he came within speaking distance, “you don’t know how glad I am to see you again. They’ve got her at last, and Bab too; and here the rest of us are, high and dry ashore, with a fair prospect of working our passage back to Bellville, if we can find any vessel to ship on. Look there!”
Walter turned his eyes in the direction indicated, and one look was enough. “The deserters?” he faltered.
“Yes, sir, the deserters! And who do you suppose is their leader? Pierre Coulte!”
Without waiting to hear the exclamations of amazement which this unexpected intelligence called forth from his companions, Eugene went on to tell what had happened to him since he had last seen his brother—how he and Bab had traversed the wharf from one end to the other without meeting the revenue officer of whom they had been sent in search, and had returned to the yacht just in time to see her captured. He wound up his story with the remark that Chase and Wilson must have been secured, before he and Bab came within sight of the vessel, for they had seen nothing of them.
“Well, this is a pretty state of affairs,” said Walter, as soon as he could speak. “Instead of assisting Fred Craven, we have managed to lose three more of our fellows. As far as I can see we are done for now, and all that is left us is to look about for a chance to go home. But first, I’d like to know what those men intend to do with the yacht. Do you see where they are going? Let’s walk around the beach. I want to keep her in sight as long as I can, for I never expect to see her after to-night.”
Walter did not keep the Banner in sight five minutes after he spoke. She had by this time reached the other side of the harbor, and disappeared among the trees and bushes that lined the shore, having probably entered a creek that flowed into the bay. With one accord the boys bent their steps along the beach toward the spot where she had last been seen, not with any intention of trying to recover possession of her, but simply because they did not know what else to do.
It was fully three miles around the beach to the woods in which the Banner had vanished from their view, but the boys had so much to talk about that the distance did not seem nearly so great. Almost before they were aware of it, they were stumbling about among the bushes, in close proximity to the Banner’s hiding-place. Not deeming it policy to attract the attention of her crew, they ceased their conversation and became more cautious in their movements—a proceeding on which they had reason to congratulate themselves; for, before they had gone fifty yards farther, they saw the Banner’s tall, taper masts rising through the bushes directly in advance of them. They looked about among the trees in every direction, but could see no one. They listened, but no sound came from the direction of the yacht. The same encouraging thought occurred to each of the boys at the same moment, and Eugene was the first to give utterance to it.