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Updated: May 9, 2025
But there was no answer, unless certain whisperings that I could not understand could be considered as such. Several long nails twenty-penny, I was sure were driven home. Then there was a clattering of boots and the small boat bumped the sloop's counter again. They were getting into their own boat. They had left me in a nice fix nailed up tightly in the cabin of my boat.
When it gathered itself for the thrust and started in to hurl the doomed vessel the full length of its mighty arms, the sloop's only safety lay in widening the space. A cushion of backwater would then receive the sloop's forefoot in place of the snarling teeth of low crunching rocks.
But the whole matter was settled clearly by my finding the sloop's log-book lying open on the cabin table, just as it had lain there, and had entries made in it, while the action was going on.
Being sure of the sloop's position, I lay down to rest and to think, and I felt better for it. By daylight the island was abeam, about three miles away. It wore a hard, weather-beaten appearance there, all alone, far out in the Indian Ocean, like land adrift. The windward side was uninviting, but there was a good port to leeward, and I hauled in now close on the wind for that.
I say, should you talk like this to one of the Revenue sloop's men if he came ashore?" "Oh, we know how to talk to that sort if he comes our way," said the man, with a chuckling laugh; "and they knows it, too, and don't come." "Nor the press-gang either, eh?" said Aleck, mockingly.
Some general overhauling was also required, and among other things the sloop's captain pointed out that the side-board in the cabin was not well secured. "I have sometimes to get up two or three times in the night to see to it," he said.
"And that's a very pretty comprehension of the game, sir: I play the Queen." "Where is she?" For answer, he pointed seaward, where the sloop's lantern lay like a floating star on the black waters. "What!" cried I. "Mistress Delia in that sloop! And who is with her, pray?" "Why, Black Dick, to begin with and Reuben Gedges and Jeremy Toy." "All the Knaves left in the pack God help her!"
Captain Starkweather had renamed his sloop. The old name had been painted out, and now, on each side of the boat, in gilt letters on a white scroll the new name "Anne Nelson" could be seen. The little craft was anchored off the Freeman wharf, and at early twilight Mr. Nelson and Anne said their good-byes to the Freemans, and put off in the sloop's tender.
"No, sir," came from the sloop's deck. "We'll clear you all right." "See that you do, then!" Then the sloop's hull came into view again, as the craft headed out toward the open water beyond. "That's the kind of a craft Jack would give a heap to be on," thought Eph. "Queer that he should spend all his time on gasoline peanut roasters when he's so fond of whistling for a breeze behind canvas."
"The officers in command," he said to himself. It was a long row from vessel to vessel, and the sun had begun to dip, and sank quite out of sight as the sloop's cutter came alongside, the men tossed up their oars, and a smart-looking officer of about thirty sprang up the side, followed by a lad of Rodd's own age, who took his attention from the first.
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