The moon rose, and Mulford heard the well-known raps on the booby-hatch, which precedes the call of “all hands,” on board a merchant-man.  “All hands up anchor, ahoy!” succeeded, and in less than five minutes the bustle on board the brig announced the fact, that her people were “getting the anchor.”  By this time it had got to be so light that the mate deemed it prudent to return to the house, in order that he might conceal his person within its shadows.  Awake Rose he would not, though he knew she would witness the departure of the Swash with a satisfaction little short of his own.  He thought he would wait, that when he did speak to her at all, it might be to announce their entire safety.  As regarded the aunt, Rose was much relieved on her account, by the knowledge that Jack Tier would not fail to let Mrs. Budd know everything connected with her own situation and prospects.  The desertion of Jack, after coming so far with her, had pained our heroine in a way we cannot at present explain; but go he would, probably feeling assured there was no longer any necessity for his continuance with the lovers, in order to prevail on Rose to escape from Spike.

The Swash was not long in getting her ground-tackle, and the brig was soon seen with her topsail aback, waiting to cat the anchor.  This done, the yards swung round, and the topsail filled.  It was blowing just a good breeze for such a craft to carry whole sail on a bow-line with, and away the light and active craft started, like the racer that is galloping for daily exercise.  Of course there were several passages by which a vessel might quit the group of islets, some being larger, and some smaller, but all having sufficient water for a brigantine of the Molly’s draught.  Determined not to lose an inch of distance unnecessarily, Spike luffed close up to the wind, making an effort to pass out to windward of the light.  In order to do this, however, it became necessary for him to make two short tacks within the haven, which brought him far enough to the southward and eastward to effect his purpose.  While this was doing, the mate, who perfectly understood the object of the manoeuvres, passed to the side of the light-house that was opposite to that on which the dwelling was placed, with a view to get a better sight of the vessel as she stood out to sea.  In order to do this, however, it was necessary for the young man to pass through a broad bit of moonlight but he trusted for his not being seen, to the active manner in which all hands were employed on board the vessel.  It would seem that, in this respect, Mulford trusted without his host, for as the vessel drew near, he perceived that six or eight figures were on the guns of the Swash, or in her rigging, gesticulating eagerly, and seemingly pointing to the very spot where he stood.  When the brig got fairly abeam of the light, she would not be a hundred yards distant from it, and fearful to complete the exposure of his person, which he had so inadvertently and unexpectedly commenced, our mate drew up close to the wall of the light-house, against which he sustained himself in a position as immovable as possible.  This movement had been seen by a single seaman on board the Swash, and the man happened to be one of those who had landed with Spike only two hours before.  His name was Barlow.