"No."
"Perhaps it's in the starboard-boat."
I pretended to search, and then drawing close to Miss Robertson, said quickly—
"Creep away now. Keep close to the rail and crouch low. Get to your cabin and change your dress. Roll the clothes you are wearing in a bundle and hide them for the present."
She glided away on her little feet, stooping her head to a level with the rail.
All was quiet forward—the main-deck deserted. I waited some seconds, standing with my hand on the box, and then I shoved it right overboard. It fell just as I had expected, with a thumping splash.
Instantly I roared out, "Man overboard! Down with your helm! The bo'sun's gone!" and to complete the imposture I bounded aft, cut away a life-buoy, and flung it far into the darkness astern.
Cornish obeyed me literally; put the helm right down, and in a few moments the sails were shaking wildly.
"Steady!" I shouted. "Aft here and man the port main-braces! Bear a hand! the bo'sun's overboard!"
My excitement made my voice resonant as a trumpet, and the men in both watches came scampering along the deck. The shaking of the canvas, the racing of feet, my own and the cries of the crew, produced, as you may credit, a fine uproar. Of course I had foreseen that there would be no danger in bringing the ship aback. The wind though fresh was certainly not strong enough to jeopardize the spars; moreover, the sea had moderated.