But under the circumstances they contented themselves with the assurance of the respectable Mr. Bonnet that he would appear before them the next morning and give them every opportunity of examining his most respectable ship.  Having done this, they retired to their beds, and the respectable Bonnet immediately boarded his vessel.

“Now,” cried Captain Bonnet, “where is my daughter?  I hope that Ben Greenway has caused her to retire to shelter?”

“Your daughter!” exclaimed Big Sam, before any one else could speak, “she is not here.  It was still early twilight when she told me she would wait no longer, and desired to be sent ashore in a boat.  This request, of course, I immediately granted, feeling bound thereto, as she was your daughter, and that I was, in a measure, under her orders.”

Captain Bonnet stood, knitting his brows.

“Well, well!” he presently cried, with an air of relief, “it is better so.  Her home is the best place for her, as matters have turned out.  And now,” said he, turning to Big Sam, “call the men together and set them to quick work.  Pull up your anchors and do whatever else is necessary to free the ship; then let us away.  We must be far out of sight of this island before to-morrow’s sunrise.”

As Big Sam passed Black Paul he winked and whispered:  “The old fool is doing exactly what I would have done if he hadn’t come aboard.  This suits my plan as if he were trying his best to please me.”

In a very short time the cable was slipped, for Big Sam had no notion of betraying the departure of the vessel by the creaking of a capstan; and, with the hoisting of a few sails and no light aboard except the shaded lamp at the binnacle, the Sarah Williams moved down the river and out upon the sea.

“And when are you going to take the command in your hands?” asked Black Paul of Big Sam.

“To-morrow, some time,” was the answer, “but I must first go around among the men and let them know what’s coming.”

“And how about Ben Greenway?  Has the old man asked for him yet?”

“No,” said the other; “he thinks, of course, that the Scotchman has gone ashore with the young woman.  What else could he do, being a faithful servant?  To-morrow I shall set Greenway free and let him tell his own tale to his master.  But I shall tell my tale first, and then he can speak or not speak, as he chooses; it will make no difference one way or another.”

Soon after dawn the next morning Captain Bonnet was out of his hammock and upon deck.  He looked about him and saw nothing but sea, sea, sea.

Big Sam approached him.  “I forgot to tell you,” said he, “that yesterday I shut up that Scotchman of yours, for, from his conduct, I thought that he had some particular reason for wanting to go on shore; and, fearing that if he did so he would talk about this vessel, and so make worse the trouble I was sure you were in, I shut him up as a matter of precaution and forgot to mention him to you last night.”