main yard-arm of the ship, a dead man!"

"Well, that's comfortable at any rate," said the marine, "and you
needn't trouble yourself in future, Leonard Hust, to repeat your dreams
to me, especially if they are personal."

"Never mind, man, it was all a dream, no truth in it, you know. Come,
old boy, take another drink for companionship, and then good night to
you, and I'll turn in."

The marine greedily drained the rest of the bottle, and with swimming
eyes thanked Leonard for his kindness, bade him good night, and with an
unsteady step resumed his musket and his walk upon the forecastle. In
the meantime, Charles Bramble, who was an expert swimmer, had got out of
gunshot and even sight of the ship, or rather where his head could not
be discovered from the ship's deck, and was nearing the shore very fast.
He had secured, as he proposed, sufficient clothing upon the back of his
neck, and in an oil cloth covering, so as to keep it dry, to equip
himself quite comfortably on landing, and in these garments he was soon
dressed again, and making his way through the town to the mission house,
where he knew Helen Huntington and her mother to be, and where he knew,
also, that he could find at last temporary lodgings.

He had no longer any fear that his brother would resume the charge
concerning him before the court--bad as he knew him to be, he did not
believe that he would do this, though he doubted not that he would have
managed to have kept him in confinement, and perhaps to have carried him
thus to England, partly from revengeful feelings towards him, and partly
to keep him out of the presence of her whom he so tenderly loved. But,
lest his brother should be betrayed by his feelings into any extremity