All was done as Jack desired, and the boat got away from the brig unheard and undetected.  It was blowing a good breeze, and Jack Tier had no sooner got the sail on the boat, than away it started at a speed that would have soon distanced Spike in his yawl, and with his best oarsmen.  The main point was to keep the course, though the direction of the wind was a great assistant.  By keeping the wind abeam, Jack thought he should be going toward the rock of Mulford.  In one hour, or even in less time, he expected to reach it, and he was guided by time, in his calculations, as much as by any other criterion.  Previously to quitting the brig, he had gone up a few ratlins of the fore-rigging to take the bearings of the fire on Mulford’s rock, but the light was no longer visible.  As no star was to be seen, the course was a little vague, but Jack was navigator enough to understand that by keeping on the weather side of the channel he was in the right road, and that his great danger of missing his object was in over-running it.

So much of the reef was above water, that it was not difficult to steer a boat along its margin.  The darkness, to be sure, rendered it a little uncertain how near they were running to the rocks, but, on the whole, Jack assured Rose he had no great difficulty in getting along.

“These trades are almost as good as compasses,” he said, “and the rocks are better, if we can keep close aboard them without going on to them.  I do not know the exact distance of the spot we seek from the brig, but I judged it to be about two leagues, as I looked at it from aloft.  Now, this boat will travel them two leagues in an hour, with this breeze and in smooth water.”

“I wish you had seen the fire again before we left the brig,” said Rose, too anxious for the result not to feel uneasiness on some account or other.

“The mate is asleep, and the fire has burned down; that’s the explanation.  Besides, fuel is not too plenty on a place like that Mr. Mulford inhabits just now.  As we get near the spot, I shall look out for embers, which may sarve as a light-house, or beacon, to guide us into port.”

“Mr. Mulford will be charmed to see us, now that we take him wather!” exclaimed Biddy.  “Wather is a blessed thing, and it’s hard will be the heart that does not fale gratitude for a planty of swate wather.”

“The maty has plenty of food and water where he is,” said Jack.  “I’ll answer for both them sarcumstances.  I saw him turn a turtle as plain as if I had been at his elbow, and I saw him drinking at a hole in the rock, as heartily as a boy ever pulled at a gimblet-hole in a molasses hogs-head.”

“But the distance was so great, Jack, I should hardly think you could have distinguished objects so small.”

“I went by the motions altogether.  I saw the man, and I saw the movements, and I knowed what the last meant.  It’s true I couldn’t swear to the turtle, though I saw something on the rock that I knowed, by the way in which it was handled, must be a turtle.  Then I saw the mate kneel, and put his head low, and then I knowed he was drinking.”