Reasoning that I could be no worse off if I failed in the attempt, I followed him out into the passage, and then crept softly down it. Reaching the door, I opened it and entered the forecastle. Some of the men were awake, but they took no notice of me in the semi-darkness, and, throwing myself into an empty hammock, I waited for the next watch to be called to the deck.
The summons came almost immediately, and unnoticed I clambered up to the deck with the other sailors. It was so dark I could not see two feet away, and thus favored I made my way forward to the bow-chaser under which I quickly concealed myself.
The time I lay there seemed very long; in reality it was but a few minutes. Then someone touched my arm, and I hastily arose to find Pete Berry beside me.
“Come,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
Silently I followed him, and he led me over to the starboard side of the craft and put my hand on the rope which led down to the yawl.
“Go down,” he said again in the same low tone, “but wait two minutes till I jine ye.”
It was the first intimation I had that the old sailor was going along too; but I had a greater surprise when my feet touched the boat, for I found there three men instead of one. The additional ones were my comrades, Goss and Webber.
I could have hugged them in the ecstasy of my joy at this discovery, for the one misgiving I had in the whole plan was whether it would be right for me to run away and leave them behind. Putting off, however, that joyous expression for a safer moment, I waited impatiently for Pete to join us. He came in the specified time, bringing quite a large package with him.
“It’s our rations,” he explained as he drew his knife and cut us adrift.
Rapidly the boat fell away from the frigate, and she was soon lost in the fog. In a half-hour we deemed it safe to put out our oars. All night long, by turns, we pulled away, and when morning dawned we estimated that we had made at least ten miles.