stepping carefully past their recumbent forms, moved silently aft
toward the more open space near the wheel. I had been standing there
hardly a minute, staring blankly out into the misty dimness of the
Bay, when my startled eyes caught glimpse of a speck of white emerging
from the black shadows--the spectral glimmer of a small sail. I was
scarcely convinced I had seen it, yet as swiftly crouched lower,
hiding myself behind the protection of the rail, instantly alert to
learn the meaning of this strange apparition. An instant told me this
was no deceit. The strange craft swept past, so far out that those on
board no doubt believed themselves beyond sight from the shore,
heading apparently for a point of land, which I vaguely remembered as
jutting out to the northward. Even my eyes, accustomed to the
darkness, and strained to the utmost, could detect scarcely more than
the faintest shadow gliding silently by, yet sufficient to recognize
the outlines of a small keel boat, propelled by a single lug sail, and
even imagined I could discern the stooped figure of a man at the helm.




CHAPTER VII

THE LIEUTENANT UNMASKED


I had in truth hardly more than grasped the reality of the boat's
presence--it seemed so spectral a thing amid the mists of the
night--when it had vanished utterly once more behind the curtain of
darkness. There was no sound to convince me my eyes had not deceived;
that I had actually perceived a boat, flying before the wind, under