CHAPTER XVII
In Which Bill o’ Burnt Bay Finds Himself in Jail and Archie Armstrong Discovers That Reality is Not as Diverting as Romance
To be sure, Bill o’ Burnt Bay had overcome the watchman! He had blundered upon him in the cabin. Being observed before he could withdraw, he had leaped upon this functionary with resistless impetuosity––had overpowered him, gagged him, trussed him like a turkey cock and rolled him into his bunk. The waters roundabout gave no sign of having been apprised of the capture. No cry of surprise rang out––no call for help––no hullabaloo of pursuit. The lights of the old town twinkled in the foggy night in undisturbed serenity.
The night was thick, and the wind swept furiously up from the sea. It would be a dead beat to windward to make the open––a sharp beat through a rock-strewn channel in a rising gale.
“Now we got her,” Skipper Bill laughed, “what’ll we do with her?” 152
Archie and Josiah laughed, too: a hearty explosion.
“We can never beat out in this wind,” said Bill; “an’ we couldn’t handle her if we did––not in a gale o’ wind like this. All along,” he chuckled, “I been ’lowin’ for a fair wind an’ good weather.”
They heard the rattle and creak of oars approaching; to which, in a few minutes, the voices of two men added a poignant interest. The rowers rested on their oars, as though looking about; then the oars splashed the water again, and the dory shot towards the Heavenly Home. Bill o’ Burnt Bay and his fellow pirates lay flat on the deck. The boat hung off the stern of the schooner.
“Jean!”