character with little danger of any mishap. The only remaining peril
of discovery would come with the return of the absent boat, and the
necessity of my encountering the giant negro. Yet I was convinced even
this would not prove serious. If Cochose had glimpsed my features at
all during the course of our desperate struggle on the deck of the
sloop, the impression made on his mind must have been merely
momentary; and, besides, he would never once conceive it possible that
the same man could have reached the bark ahead of his return. Even if
such a suspicion dawned, I was now in a position to positively
establish my arrival aboard the _Namur_ early the evening previous,
and before their expedition had departed.

I felt so safe, and so content with my success thus far, as to already
believe thoroughly in the final result of my mission. This confidence
developed almost into sheer recklessness. There were some difficulties
ahead, to be sure. I remained sane enough to recognize these, yet I
had already conquered easily, what at first had appeared
insurmountable, and, in consequence of this good luck, these others
yet to be met, seemed far less serious. The same happy fortune which
had opened the way for me to board the _Namur_ must also intervene to
aid me in solving future problems. Mine was the philosophy of a
sailor, to whom peril was but a part of life. All I seemed to require
now was a sufficiency of courage and faith--the opportunity would be
given. In this spirit of aroused hope, I continued to stare out into
the black night, watchfully, the shrouded deck behind me silent, and
seemingly deserted, except for the steady tramp from rail to rail of
LeVere, keeping his lonely watch aft. The crew had disappeared, lying
down no doubt in corners out of the wind. And this wind was certainly
rising, already attaining a force to be reckoned with, for the boom of
waves hurled against the bows of the laboring bark, was steadily