"Sentiment be hanged!" I said out loud, and tucked the revolver in a rear pocket. Then I made the deck, and found Slade standing at the mizzen waiting for me.
"We'll raise the land before morning," said he. "She's been running like a scared rat all night. Keep a lookout, and when you sight anything sing out to the old man—he'll be on deck probably, but he's been acting queer lately, and you better watch him. We'll heave her to for a pilot, and you know the rest."
"All right," I answered.
The soft, damp air of the trade wind made the decks soaking wet. The low hum through the rigging added to the murmuring of the side wash. The creaking of sheet blocks and slight straining of the gear were the only noises that broke the stillness of the peaceful night. The schooner was running along rapidly, heeling gently to the wind, and everything drawing. The rolling motion was slight, for the wind was strong enough to hold her steady.
The voices of the watch forward sounded above the murmuring, and I could see the glow of a pipe belonging to some one who disregarded the ship's discipline sufficiently to smoke while on duty. I took my place at the mizzen rigging to con the vessel, and stood there silently for a long time watching the foam rushing past her, now and then gazing far ahead to see if I could raise the lights of Pearl Harbor. The wind was almost astern, and the headsails were consequently not doing much work. I listened to the slatting, and then sang out:
"Haul down the jib topsail and roll it up."
"Aye, aye, sir," came the response, and the men went to the forecastle head.
Aft at the wheel the shadow of a man holding the spokes was the only sign of life on deck. I took my place again at the weather rigging, and waited for the report from forward.
A heavier swell than usual rolled the schooner, and I turned to look aft. At that instant something whizzed past my ear, and struck with a chugging sound into the backstay. My ear stung sharply, and something warm ran down my neck. I saw a form vanish behind the mast, and called out.
I knew I had been struck, and drew my gun, springing toward the figure, which dashed silently across the deck as I gained the mast. I fired at it without hesitation, and the fellow let out a scream, gained the rail, and plunged over the side.