“Look here!” exclaimed the prisoner, who did not seem to understand the matter at all; “are you not one of them?”

“One of whom?”

“Don’t you belong to the band?”

“What band?”

“Why, the smugglers.”

“Eh! Chase, you’re dreaming.”

“Do I dream that I am a prisoner?”

“A prisoner!”

“Yes; and that I have been shut up here ever since last night? If you are not one of them, what made you come here? How did you get aboard?”

“I came off in the yawl. I found it on shore.”