“’Tis from the point at the narrows,” he thought. “Sure, ’tis Skipper Bill come back.”
Again he heard the hail––his own name, coming from that point at the narrows.
“Billy, b’y! Billy!”
“Aye, sir! Who are you?”
“Skipper Bill, b’y!” came the answer. “Fetch the quarter-boat. We’re aground and leakin’.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
“Quick, lad! I wants t’ get aboard.”
Billy leaped from the rail to the quarter-boat. He was ready to cast off when he heard a splash in the darkness behind him. That splash gave him pause. Were the wreckers trying to decoy him from the ship? They had a legal right to salve an abandoned vessel. He clambered aboard, determined, until he had better assurance of the safety of his charge, to let Skipper Bill and his crew, if it were indeed they, make a shift for comfort on the rocks until morning. “Skipper Bill, sir!” he called. “Can you swim?”
“Aye, b’y! But make haste.” 284
“I’ll show a light for you, sir, if you want t’ swim out, but I’ll not leave the schooner.”