"That I don't know—perhaps half a dozen. Your hangman will be there," and Vernon chuckled at the thought of the scene he had witnessed near the wood-yard.
Maxwell's teeth grated, and Hatchie distinctly heard the malediction he bestowed upon him. Fears for his personal safety did not, for a moment, disturb him. Prudence alone prevented him from rushing upon the villains, and thwarting in its embryo stage their design upon his mistress.
"You mean," said Maxwell, "to take the girl from the house by force?"
"There is no other way."
"Then we had better examine the island, or it will not be an easy matter to land in a dark night."
"How does the owner land?"
"Probably by the little stream we saw above."
"Rather difficult navigation for a stranger. We had better land in this part of the island. Let us walk through the thicket and find the house."
Hatchie saw them attempt to pass through the thick brush; but the task was not an easy one. By the aid of a bowie-knife, with which they cut away some of the bushes, they penetrated to the larger growth of trees, where the under-brush no longer impeded their progress. They passed beyond the hearing of the mulatto, though from his elevated position he occasionally obtained a view of them, as they approached the cottage. Anxiously he waited their return, in the hope of getting more definite ideas of the time and method of the proposed attack upon the island.
After a careful survey of the premises, Maxwell and Vernon returned to their former position.