“Different!  Yes; so vastly different, that I misunderstood everything.  But now I know, and—­and sweetheart, I love you, I love you.”

It could not have been long, not to exceed a moment or two, when a sudden leaping of the boat brought us back to a realization of our position.  As soon as I had regained control of the craft, I reached out again and touched her hand.

“This is all so strange, so unexpected, I can scarcely comprehend what has occurred.”

“Strange, yes, in the way it has happened,” she coincided.  “But we cannot afford to dwell upon that now.  We are in peril.  Do you really know where we are? for what you are steering?”

“It is largely a guess; there is nothing to give me guidance, except as I unscrew the face of this compass and feel the needle.”

“Then we may still be within view from the deck of the Sea Gull at daybreak?”

“Yes; that will depend entirely upon luck.”

She turned away, and sat quiet, staring forward intently into the black void.

“What time is it now?”

“Nearly three.”

“In two hours it will be dawn.”

“Yes.”

I thought I could see her clasp her hands together; then suddenly lean forward.

“Why, look there!” she exclaimed quickly.  “See! to the right.  Merciful Heavens! it is a ship!”

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE REVENUE CUTTER

The vision, indistinct in the gloom, was blotted out from me by the intervening sail.  It was only as I leaned well to one side that I could distinguish the dim outlines.  By that time we were almost upon it, and I could only sheer away to avoid collision.  It was hard to determine the nature of the vessel, the sides looming so close above us, but it was not the Sea Gull.  I was certain of that from the height of the rail, and the outline of a square foresail showing dimly against the sky.  From poop to bow there was not a light visible, and the hull moved through the water like that of a spectral ship.  Apparently we were unnoticed, and as the stretch of water widened slightly between us, I called out: 

“Ahoy there!  Take us aboard!”

I shouted twice, before a head popped over the rail, and stared down in apparent amazement.

“Hullo, the boat!  Who are you?  What do you want?”

“Small boat adrift; two passengers; throw us a rope.”

“All right; standby!”

I could hear his voice up above, shouting orders; there was a rush of feet, and a rope’s end fell within reach.  The head bobbed over the rail again, and, a moment later I had helped her up a swaying boarding ladder, and felt the solid deck under my feet.  The intense darkness puzzled me, not a gleam of light showing anywhere.  Suddenly a hand touched my arm.

“This way, sir; help the lady aft—­the deck is clear.”