arrived at certain conclusions. The one immediate object before me was
to attain the bark in advance of Estada. I now was convinced that thus
far I was safely ahead. The night wind was light, and baffling, not
greatly affecting my own progress, but of a nature to retard
considerably the sail-boat, and compel a series of wide tacks, so as
to enable those on board to round the point. All this distance I could
avoid by beaching my dory, and striking out on foot directly across
the narrow neck of land. The _Namur_, unless her position had been
changed since darkness set in, was not so far out from shore as to
make swimming to her a dangerous feat; and I could approach and board
her with far less chance of discovery in that manner, than by the use
of a boat. The watch on deck would undoubtedly be a vigilant one, yet
no eye could detect through that darkness--unless by sheer accident--a
submerged swimmer, cautiously advancing with silent strokes. The
greater danger would come after I had attained the deck, wet to the
skin.

The sharp bow of the dory ran up on the soft sand of the beach, and I
stepped ashore, hauling the light boat after me beyond the reach of
the waves. The night remained calm and still, although the scudding
clouds were thickening overhead, until scarcely a single star remained
visible. The sea behind me was overhung by a black curtain, yet, by
bending low, I could look along the surface for some distance where
the heaving water reflected from wave to wave what little light there
was. The beach was a narrow one, and only a few feet away the neck of
land became elevated into a leveled crest, thickly covered with
trees, their upper branches dimly visible from where I stood. Judging
from the trend of the coast, it would be necessary for me to strike
directly across to the opposite shore, but in this journey special
caution was not required. There would be no one in the midst of this