I took Cludde with me to the top of the cliff to gain a clearer view of the vessel’s position.  Keeping in shadow, we saw that she lay some little way out in a narrow bay overhung by cliffs, the seaward end appearing closed, owing to a bend in the shore.  The tide was fast coming in; the wind, which at the foot of the cliffs had seemed but a light breeze, was blowing strong at our altitude.

“Cludde,” I said, “I am going to cut the cables.”

“’Tis madness!” he replied, in an accent of amazement and protest.  “You would be sure to be seen in the moonlight.”

“The moon is sinking,” I answered. “’Twill be down behind the cliffs in an hour.”

“But the sharks!  These waters are infested with them.”

“’Tis the only way,” I said with resolution, “and sharks or no sharks I must make the attempt.  With the wind and tide the brig, if I can but cut her cables, will drift up the bay and run on the shoals, and then ’twill be impossible to get her off for some hours.”

“You cannot cut the cables unperceived.  When they feel her riding free they will suspect the cause, and you’re a dead man.”

“I must take my chance.  ’Twill be dark soon, and maybe luck, that has been against me so long, will turn with the tide.  I am going to do it, Cludde, and as we have an hour or so before the moon goes down, come with me along the cliff to find the most convenient spot for the venture.”

We went along together, and had walked but a few yards when we came near to breaking our necks.  A part of the cliffs had fallen, leaving a wide gap, and coming suddenly to this, we barely escaped plunging headlong down.  The long slope was strewn with great numbers of stones small and large.  We managed to scramble down the one steep side, and up the other, without having to go a long way round, and came at length opposite the brig, and saw by the manner of her rocking that she rode on two anchors, one from the bows and the other from the stern.  There were several men on deck; we heard their voices and laughter.  I thought of Mistress Lucy doubtless imprisoned in the cabin, and vowed that before many hours were past she should be free, if mortal wit and mortal arm could achieve it.

We settled on a place for me to take the water—­a little beyond the brig, where the cliff dipped low.  With all my heart I hoped the tide would not turn before the moon went down.  We did not care to leave the spot and return to the others, lest when I came again I should lose my way in the darkness and come to some mishap.  But while we were waiting on the cliff edge for the setting of the moon I bethought me that our company would be none the worse for strengthening, for if the brig were stranded as I hoped, some means might perchance be found (though I knew not what) of gaining possession of her.  So I sent Cludde back to Uncle Moses to bid him ride back to the house and bring up, afoot or on horseback, a great force of the negroes of the estate, with whatever arms they could find.  I reckoned (but wrongly, as it proved) that curiosity, the courage of numbers, and their common hatred of Vetch, would outweigh their dread of bugaboos, and bring them at once.