Martin looked up and saw Judith coming toward him, and he stood like a guilty boy expecting the punishment which he knows he richly merits.

Judith came and stood beside the two men.  Martin’s eyes were cast down, and she made a number of swift movements with her hands, which Shaky answered in like manner.  Then he turned to Martin.

“She wishes to know if you are willing to do as you are told.  What answer shall I make?”

“Tell her that I will obey orders,” replied Martin, without looking up.  “I will not struggle against fate.”

Shaky spelled this off rapidly with his fingers, and Judith smiled.

It was like a ray of sunlight breaking through a cloud, and illumined the dark face wonderfully.

In a few moments the fastenings were cast off and the sloop and schooner drifted apart, Sandy remaining on board the Swan, with the imprisoned captain in the cabin and the two boys in the hold.

The Petrel at once bore away, with Martin at the wheel and Shaky in command, Judith descending into the little caboose to prepare food.

The feelings of Captain Dilke, when he found himself alone in the cabin, cannot be described.  He struggled frantically with his bonds for a long time, and at last succeeded in releasing one of his hands.  It was now only a question of time for him to free himself entirely, and soon he found himself at liberty.

What should he do next?  He knew that several hours had passed since he had been thrust into the cabin, and that it was now night, for no light came through the bull’s-eye in the deck.

Groping his way cautiously up the companion-way, he tried the door.  It was fastened.  And, even if it was unfastened, how could he escape the men who stood guard on deck?

Then he bethought himself of the passageway under the cabin-floor.  He would wait till a late hour, and then endeavor to escape by that way.

Up to this time he had been so engrossed with thoughts of his own freedom that he had quite forgotten the money which he believed the boys had found.  Now it came back to him with redoubled force.  Long years of a roving, reckless life had prepared him for almost every emergency.  Taking from his pocket a small folding lantern and a diminutive spirit-lamp, he soon got it in working order.

All this time the Swan had been rocking on the waves, but suddenly there was a shock, and then she lay quiet and still.

Patiently the prisoner waited.  He heard the noise of feet upon the deck, and then all was silent.

“They have landed, and quitted the vessel,” he muttered.  “Now is my time to escape.”

He struck a match and lighted his little lantern, looking at his watch by its feeble rays.  It was past ten o’clock.

As rapidly as possible he searched the cabin thoroughly—­the berths, the locker for food, and the bunker for wood.

Having satisfied himself that the money was not hidden in any of these, he unfastened and raised the trap-door, and descended into the vacant place below the floor.  Almost creeping on his face, he moved along, noticing at once that the ballast had been moved.