poop-deck, quietly wakened me, saying, "We must get up, and look out for
ourselves! Something is going wrong on deck; the boat tackle has been
let go with a great deal of noise, and--O! don't go that way on deck. I
heard some one on the cabin steps, and heard whispering in the forward
entry."

"You must have been dreaming," I said.

"No, indeed!" said she; "I have not been asleep yet; don't go on deck by
the forward companionway; they are waiting there, I am sure, for I heard
the creaking of the loose step in the entry."

If my wife has not been dreaming, thought I, there can be no possible
doubt of a plot.

Nothing justifies a visit on the poop-deck after working-hours, except a
call to relieve sickness, or for some other emergency, and then secrecy
or stealth is non-permissible.

It may be here explained to persons not familiar with ships, that the
sailors' quarters are in the forward part of the ship where they (the
sailors) are supposed to be found after working-hours, in port, coming
never abaft the mainmast; hence the term "before the mast."

My first impulse was to step on deck in the usual way, but the earnest
entreaties of my wife awoke me to a danger that should be investigated
with caution. Arming myself, therefore, with a stout carbine repeater,
with eight ball cartridges in the magazine, I stepped on deck abaft
instead of forward, where evidently I had been expected. I stood rubbing
my eyes for a moment, inuring them to the intense darkness, when a